


The Inquisitor

by TaiYeung



Series: Dragon Age: Inquisition [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, Writing practice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaiYeung/pseuds/TaiYeung
Summary: A Retelling of Dragon Age: Inquisition featuring Solas x Lavellanidk i tried. i need to sleepAll the characters and whatever belong to BioWare. No copyright infringement intended.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Mahariel (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Dagna/Sera (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fenris/Female Hawke, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, unrequited cassandra x varric
Series: Dragon Age: Inquisition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090634
Kudos: 3





	1. The Wrath of Heaven

_ The Inquisitor: A Retelling of Dragon Age: Inquisition _

_ Chapter 1: The Wrath of Heaven _

_They shall cry out to their false gods,_

_And find silence._

_—_ _Andraste 7:19_

☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉

She drifted on the waters of sleep. The mellow waves rocked her into a state of lulled complacency, but gently dipped her into consciousness.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t **_kill_** you now.”

The voice of a woman — strong with authority, and thickly accented — that rang throughout the dank air was overflowing with emotion that registered in her brain as malice, and hatred. It was enough to make her want to crumple into herself as the woman’s voice continued to prattle on in her one-sided conversation about something involving a “conclave”. Nevertheless, to her captor’s dismay, she stayed unnervingly still.

 _Kill?_ she thought, mind still scrambling to regain some sort of semblance of trained thought. She had just awoken from a nightmare. An everlasting nightmare filled with crawling spiny legs, an extended hand reaching out towards the dawning skies, and too many dark eyes watching in wait.

_Eyes lying in wait for her._

Her skull felt like it was being cleaved open with a blunt weapon. A rhythmic pounding and throbbing plagued her as she fought to open her eyes. She did manage to open her eyes, if only a little. She blinked slowly into the room that was dimly lit by wall-mounted torches. The fires did not burn into her sight as a woman’s shape towered above her, invading her line of sight. She was grateful that she hid the fires’ light for her headache was still thrumming, her head spinning.

Meanwhile as her eyesight was still adjusting, the rusty scent of blood in combination with the musty scent of mildew growing on the cobblestone walls told her more than a simple question of “where am I?” could answer.

_The chains are too tight again. There’s blood dripping down my fingertips._

It was a prison then, and she was the prisoner. Her previous gratefulness was swiftly extinguished by the dread that pervaded her insides as she soon realized the woman’s accusation was directed towards her.

_Ah, shit._

“Everyone is dead,” the woman stated with an aggressive wave of her hand, “all of them.”

The woman crouched down face to face with her.

“Except. For. You.” The woman punched those three words with emphasis, just like her finger jabbing the air in front of the prisoner’s nose. The woman grasped her hand, raising it into view. Her wrists were bound by damp steel, but that was the least of her concerns at the present moment.

“Explain this!” A sickly green swirled in her left hand and as it pulsed in an incomprehensible rhythm, it brought along with it a festering pain of burning fire. The woman threw her hand away as if she were contagious to the touch, and the prisoner suddenly understood why the metal cuffed around her wrists were so tight.

“I don’t know exactly—” the prisoner said a bit too quickly through clenched teeth. She immediately regretted it, as the woman swooped down upon her and gripped her shoulders with threatening force.

“You— The only one that escaped a blast that killed thousands. How did you survive?”

“I don’t know.” She took a breath and focused on the relaxing the building tension in her cramped muscles that were slowly being crushed by this woman’s grip. “I don’t know what that is or how that got there. Whatever crime or ill matter you think I committed; I did not do. I am innocent.”

“LIAR! YOU’RE LYING—”

Another said, “We need her, Cassandra.”

The prisoner’s ears twitched as another woman emerged from the shadows to interrupt such a pleasant conversation that was edging on the violent side. After Cassandra had oh so pleasantly screamed into her face just seconds before, she felt Cassandra’s grip pulled from her shoulders.

Their voices echoed in the hollow prison that only held her as the prisoner. They sounded distant like a hum in the back of her mind she couldn’t completely ignore. She knew two women were arguing and they were arguing over whether she was guilty over something she didn’t exactly remember. If she knew anything, it was that guilty meant a noose around her neck. Cassandra had said many have been sent to their Maker. Did she really kill thousands? But what if she hadn’t and she wasn’t meant to be here? The horrid smell of blood was prominent, and it wasn’t coming from her captors well-dressed in their armors lined with clean linens. Based on the way the garments she wore were stiff and stuck to her body, she was the one who was making the distinct metallic smell. There was no pain of open wounds besides the ones on her wrists inflicted on her from the too tightly cuffed chains… The blood was not hers.

Perhaps, she did deserve death.

She gazed at the cobblestone flooring, lost in thoughts. She did not hear the staccato of armored footsteps on the cobblestone of her prison cell, but she did see them drawing closer into her view, courtesy of her lowered gaze. She didn’t have more time to wallow inside her head as the woman with armored boots began her inquisition.

“Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

“No,” she breathed out the words, “I do not.”

Still feeling numb and sore, she lifted her head meet the other shadowy woman who was not “Cassandra”. Her second captor had brilliant red hair. It was long unruly hair that framed her feminine face unlike Cassandra whom had raven hair cut close to the head almost like a man’s, crowned by a braid encircling the head. Red hair reminded her of wildflowers that populated the southern forests of Ferelden. She could’ve sworn she smelled them here in the room with her along with the blood and the moss, but “here” was far away from any sort of forest where the free roamed.

_Is that where I am? Where the wildflowers grow? Ferelden? Maybe I must be imagining things, but that smell…_

“Red” visibly tensed, her jaw tightened enough the prisoner could hear her teeth creaking under the pressure. It wasn’t a reaction of fear…. Maybe repulsion? This woman was more than difficult to read than the other that openly displayed disgust and aggravation.

She could feel herself frown. Her gazed shifted to Cassandra who was behind “Red” with a hand on her chin in displeased thought, narrowed eyebrows that screamed annoyance, and a severe frown that outmatched hers by far. Not to mention the scabbard with a sword on her hip.

Being quickly reminded of Cassandra’s presence, she spoke into the cold air hoping to appease at least one of her captors, “I remember running from something. I was running from _things_ ,” she paused pursing her lips together before she continued speaking of fragmented memories, “and a woman. A woman was reaching out towards me.” She didn’t think to mention the watchful oily eyes crawling in the back of her thoughts, but the whisper of “the woman” seemed to hang in the air with nothing else. They didn’t ask any more questions.

Cassandra broke the silence.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana.” Cassandra glanced back at the prisoner. “I will bring her to the rift.”

The steel shackles that once held her hands were unlocked and fell to the floor.

☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ The Prisoner’s Perspective ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉

_Each time the breach expands the more rifts appear, the more demons we face… and your mark spreads._

The mark pulsed with the same incomprehensible rhythm as the gaping hole in the sky. Cassandra called the unwelcomed hole above them the breach. A massive rift that releases demons from the Beyond into the world her feet stood upon and it was caused by an explosion at the conclave. It would grow and grow until it swallowed the world… unless it was stopped somehow by the mark.

_It is killing you._

They will see if the mark is the key to closing the breach. Afterall, they were going to take a pleasant hike up to the entrance to the fade, knock on the door and see who answers… “What” answers, that is... This day just got a whole lot shittier.

_It is our only chance however…. And **yours**. _

The thinly veiled passive aggressive threats that were being passed her way from Cassandra were steadily fueling her flourishing dislike for the woman. Cassandra walked in front, leading the way where demons and fighting will soon ensue, and the metal shackles that once locked her hands were replaced by a generous amount of twine. She had Cassandra to thank for her bulletproof knotting skills as after a few minutes of trial and error, she still couldn’t free her bound hands.

Still, it didn’t stop her from fidgeting. The rubbing and friction from the rope were only things keeping her from falling back into her desperate swirling thoughts. 

Cassandra had just guided her through a parade of humans gawking and glaring at her in ways that made her more than uncomfortable. Only if looks could kill she wouldn’t be stalking behind Cassandra with her head down, following her to the breach. She didn’t want to know what the common folk have been told about her. Even if she somehow escaped Cassandra clutches, it looked like the mob of slack-jawed fools would finish what Cassandra couldn’t back in her prison cell. Cassandra’s presence was both crippling imprisonment and dutiful protection at the same time. Still, she expected some tomatoes or some sort of vegetable to be thrown her way… things must be more desperate than she thought if they were holding onto their food. But alas, a gurgling stomach wanting for tomatoes remained hungry.

At least they didn’t spit on her.

“Cassandra?” the prisoner sighed deciding whether it was a good idea to address her captor by her name.

_What else am I suppose to call her?_

“It is Cassandra, right?” She waited for a response. When there was none, she continued, “I haven’t seen many soldiers on this path… or the demons you spoke of. Where might they be?”

Cassandra gave an over-the-shoulder disapproving glare.

 _Ah, I caught her attention._ _Try to be friendly._

“Anyways, Cassandra. I would appreciate a weapon. Maybe a sword? Something I can defend myself with from those DEMONS you were talking about earlier—" the prisoner tried her best toothy smile, “—OR maybe you can just cut the rope instead?”

Cassandra only replied with a curt grunt and turned her face forward to the path they were treading upon.

_Okay, enough._

Their trek had stopped when the prisoner had stationed her two feet to a stop. Once Cassandra had noticed they were not moving, she gave another displeased grunt.

“I promise to do whatever it takes to close the breach. Whatever may come, I will endure it all. Now—” a gesture of her bound hands she demanded, “—cut the rope.”

“That is not going to happen.” Cassandra turned around to her, eyes blazing with restrained rage. “I am not foolish enough to leave your hands unbound and free. The answer is before me, clear as day, that you—"

“Are innocent?” _Well, I don’t remember exactly what happened…_

“—expect me to believe your innocence simply because you claim you have no memory of it.” Cassandra stomped closer, and in a flash of silver, drew her sword to the prisoner’s neck. “Let me be _very_ clear. I do not believe a word that has come out of your mouth. And at this moment, you are the only _threat_ I see; the threat that needs to be restrained by any possible means. Do not expect any charity to come your way from me.”

“Really….,” she intoned without much emotion, “You still think I did this to myself?” The prisoner stood stagnant with a piece of sharp metal against her neck, and also wondered if the itch running down her neck was from a bead of sweat or freshly drawn blood. Cassandra kept an austere face of distrust plastered on full display while she eyed the prisoner, but in time, pushed her off and sheathed her sword. The shrill of metal against metal confirmed it was gone from the prisoner’s neck. The prisoner finally took a heavy gulp of air, but her hands were still balled at her sides.

“Not intentionally; Something clearly went wrong.”

“My arm is burning up. Even if I had done this, I would have made sure I did not end up the scapegoat,” she huffed, exasperated, “I am not responsible for this disaster of a mess!”

“Someone is, and you are our only suspect.” Cassandra ended their conversation by turning away and continuing their trek.

She had no reply either way. 

Cassandra wasn’t the only one who wanted answers, she herself wished desperately for her forgotten memories to resurface, but instead, resigned to her fate, she continued to follow Cassandra on the forward path. A snowy path ridden with many footsteps, meaning many have left for the breach sometime before her and the lovely Cassandra. She wondered if the owners of those footsteps would be able to make their way back to the small hamlet, they just left minutes before.

_Probably not._

The steep cliffs that surrounded them were coddled by heavy snow that only seemed to reflect the sickly green of the breach, and they hugged the valley that lead them towards a bridge built over frozen water. 

“There are some of the soldiers you were asking about earlier,” Cassandra said as she jutted her chin to direct the prisoner’s attention towards the end of bridge. A small party of soldiers were at the other side waiting for something. Perhaps, they were an escort party. Cassandra started to make her way towards them. “Stay behind me.”

But then, the sound of her own heartbeat pulsing was the only thing she could hear in her ears. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The hand the bore the mark began to shake ecstatically, and then she knew—

“CASSANDRA, LOOK OUT!”

There was no warning except a short-lived rumbling that resonated throughout the heavens. The stratus clouds above parted to reveal the incoming flaming meteor — it must have been from the breach — catapulted towards the bridge right before Cassandra, but directly on top of the escort party.

The impact shook her to her knees.

She blinked; eyes open wide to see they were gone. 

It obliterated them. A red stain and a pile of mush was imprinted on the ground where living, breathing people had once been seconds before.

She listened for any sign of life, but instead her perked ears heard the cracking and crashing of ice against ice and resurfaced cascading water freed from the dense ice that once trapped it. The mountain air was left warm from the heat of the descending fire. The bridge was split in half as there was a newly-made shambled hole in the middle of the bridge.

But nothing was left where Cassandra once stood.

 _She must have fell into the waters below,_ she thought with the shake of her head, disregarding any other conclusion that Cassandra may have ended up just like those soldiers.

Without hesitation, she ran and leapt with her tied hands above her head into the river below.

It was cold.

Frigid waters enveloped her body as they carried her downstream. Turbulent waves were pushing and pulling, and she had to take a gulp of air before they took her under. Cassandra was there in her sight suspended in a serene position, as if she chose to drown by her own choice. The water forced Cassandra’s arms to be sprawled outwards as if she were letting something go, her right leg crossed over her left leg as if she were sitting like a lady, wide-eyed as if she was seeing something others did not.

The waves pulled her back into forgotten thoughts.

_She looked past the man to see how nicely the crystal grace was growing. The crystals hanging on twisting branches… Floating robes loose and abounding twisted into knots like the branches._

_She noticed he was still holding his breath, and fighting his last fight in his own stupid-stupid way._

_A sigh left her lips. Her patience wearing thin just like his string of life…, but she can wait. She was always waiting anyways. Watching. Waiting. Staring back and forth. Waiting._

_And then she had an idea as they both stared back and forth at each other in this seemingly endless cycle, to suck in a deep, lasting gulp of sweet fresh air…_

_His eyes bulging outwards, and absolutely filled with… Fury. Regret. Betrayal. Feelings she did not recognize and feelings she had yet to understand, or didn’t care to understand?_

_The bubbles climbed out his mouth into a silent scream._

_No one could hear his suffocative end, a contorted shell dropped into a shallow of tears._

_She felt a hand on her shoulder giving unwanted praise._

_A smile graced her lips._

A drop of water followed the curve of her nose to fall onto her knees she held tightly to her chest. It was resounding enough to snap her out of her daydream; to become conscious of the metallic taste overwhelming her mouth once again. Her back molars had grasped and clenched down on the inside of her cheek, drawing blood. It dribbled out to paint her lips.

Looking forward, she saw the river flowing past her brown leather boots. They were scuffed at the toes, probably from being worn too much. While taking a deep breath of winter air, she regained her senses and alerted to herself to her surroundings. She turned her head to find Cassandra, only to find her about four feet away. There Cassandra laid on the round grey riverbed pebbles, still and quiet.

Too quiet.

The prisoner got up without the help of her hands and in small steps, walked and bent down to Cassandra’s side.

“Cassandra?” She poked her on the cheek, suddenly realizing her skin was too cold and far too pale. It was then she noticed Cassandra’s chest did not move up and down with intakes and outtakes of breath. She wasn’t breathing. How long had she been holding her breath?

“Cassandra? Wake up,” she softly demanded, taking hold of one of Cassandra’s shoulders and shaking her, “Cassandra!”

Finally, she resolved to slapping her cheek with the back of her hand. She hoped it would get some sort of reaction out of her, maybe a spiteful glare or a disgusted noise, but there was none. This impossible woman that had made her so exasperated and treated her like dirt did not open her eyes or start breathing again. It only limped her head to the side and make her blue lips part to kiss the riverside pebbles that she was sprawled out on.

Cassandra did not lie about the suffering and dying of countless souls because she had just joined the long list of casualties.

The prisoner fell back on her knees with hands scrunched only to preserve the heat wafting off her ungloved left hand. The feeling of numbness that pervaded her body may have been from the frosty air and her drenched coat, but the numbness within her mind was from being awakened to a constant barrage of terror and hostility.

“I am sorry,” she mumbled in distant prayer, “May your Maker guide you to a peaceful sleep.”

She didn’t like that her eyes were still wide-open, gazing into the green sky. She reached to shut empty chocolate eyes…, but suddenly halted her hand when they were hovering over her open mouth. A spiral of clear river water was floating out of Cassandra’s mouth following the prisoner’s fingers. And in a moment of focus, she followed the stream of water with her eyes and saw the pool of liquid that took residence in Cassandra’s still pink meaty lungs. Somehow… She didn’t know if it was instinct or impulse, but with new-found determination and a fluid gesture of her filthy-filthy fingers (that had dirt stuck underneath their nails), she delicately urged the water out of Cassandra’s lungs, into her throat, and then out of her mouth. It formed a jiggling bubble just above Cassandra’s face that reflected an unrecognizable stranger. A glimpse of white, black, green, and red painted the wavering image on the bubble… that is, until she heard an agonal gasp from the would-be corpse and dropped the bubble.

It fell on Cassandra’s face.

“Aagh!” ~~~~

_I can’t believe that worked. She’s_ —

“You’re alive! Let me help you up.” She caught Cassandra’s hands in hers and tried to help her onto her feet, but it ended up being more of a tug, as Cassandra swatted her aid away and scrambled backwards on all fours. Cassandra managed to get into a fighting position, sword equipped, blinking through the water droplets dribbling down her face.

“Ugh, do not touch me! Where!?! How did you untie your hands?!? How did you—”

 _Quick for an almost-dead woman_ , she pondered, resisting the temptation to curve her lips upwards into a smirk. Cassandra would probably think she was up to something if she made a devilish expression…. But she wasn’t. She surrendered her hands to emphasize her good intentions. Hopefully, Cassandra would catch on… eventually… before the sword was stuck in her guts.

It was then the sword Cassandra had been holding lost some of its weight, it lowered slightly.

“Did you save me?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

That was the question wasn’t it? “Why?” Why did she save the woman who held a sword at her neck? She didn’t really know. She didn’t really know anything right now. She still had a headache and— what was she thinking about again?

“I made a promise to you. We… we must think beyond ourselves until the breach is sealed,” the prisoner calmly spoke these words while making eye contact with Cassandra, and not the sword pointed at her throat. Again.

Cassandra frowned at her. _Perhaps, that response was a bit too altruistic._

“And… no one deserves to die like that…. Alone and helpless, I mean.” ~~~~

“I— Thank you.” Cassandra’s tone held no anger and for a moment, she thought that she was imagining the softness in her gratitude.

“The soldiers,” Cassandra sheathed her weapon, “… are they?”

She replied with a solemn nod. She also hoped that Cassandra wouldn’t ask any more questions involving the words “why” or “how”. She had no explanation, especially with her freed hands. And with the quick internal decision to change the subject while Cassandra was still mildly adjusting from the waking confusion of nearly drowning to death, she asked another question.

“So where are the rest of your soldiers?”

“At the forward camp, or fighting.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Somewhere. I don’t care right now.”

“Is that where you are suppose to be taking me? The forward camp?”

“No.” Cassandra’s met the prisoner’s questioning gaze after adjusting her soaking wet clothes and pouring the water out of her gloves and boots. “Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the breach first.”

The prisoner glanced at the rift in the sky. “Lovely.”

“Heh,” she breathed out a chuckle. “If that doesn’t kill us, then we go to the forward camp, and then the breach. We are on our own, for now.”

Her hand burned, and all she could do was attempt to rub away the pain. With a questioning stare, she wondered how she untied the rope that was wrapped around her wrists. Cassandra appeared to be looking at the bloody red lines around her wrists as well. Or was she looking at the mark? She couldn’t guess what Cassandra was thinking with that weird face.

“And as for your question of innocence… There will be a trial. I can promise no more.” Cassandra cleared her throat and started marching in a general direction towards danger. 

_So, if I don’t die from the hole spitting out demons, I’ll die later from a rope?_

☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉

Fire was raining from the sky. In a normal storm, one would think the occasional claps that echo throughout the air would be from lightning’s thunder, but in this storm, it was the impact of flaming rocks bringing destruction to the surface. The more progress they made travelling up the mountain, the more it seemed like tragedy would strike down upon them. Tragedy in the form of those rocks and raining fire. The quaint hamlet they left not too long ago was far enough away from the radius of destruction to stay safe. For now. 

The pulses from the breach were coming faster now. Afterall, a piece of it had been imprinted on her hand, and that gave her some primal instinct of its power. She just wished ahead of time that she somehow knew of its distaste for bridges.

“What now? We don’t have time to circle back.”

The prisoner and Cassandra had managed to recover their way to the main path, and that path lead to another bridge. A bridge with a large hole just like the last one except this time an assortment of burning scattered carts and wagons, releasing a skyward trail of black smoke. At least this time, the bridge didn’t split in half while they were crossing it.

“Ugh,” Cassandra grunted, kicking a burning dismembered wooden wheel out of frustration.

“Careful,” the prisoner said with a sigh, “I’m not picking you out of the river again if you catch on fire.”

“Very funny, but I am in no rush to relive that experience again. And as for what we should do and where we go now—” Cassandra stopped midsentence. “Wait, do you hear that?” Her palm raised to order silence.

She paused to listen with Cassandra.

“People are fighting.” Cassandra visibly squinted into the distance. She doubted Cassandra would actually be able to locate the fighting as the area beside the bridge was covered by snow-covered foliage and robust trees, hiding anything and anyone beyond it from view. But she had an odd feeling; the kind of feeling where her stomach was scrunching and churning at the same time. She felt no fear, but she couldn’t figure out why she feeling… whatever this was. She _was_ wanting for some food. Maybe that was it. She desired a nice fluffy piece of bread with a gorgeous thick slice of cheese.

Her hand was also acting out again, trembling in reaction to its own volatile magic. Her other hand had to seize the left to suppress the convulsive movement. Cassandra was too busy to notice.

“There’s a rift nearby.”

Cassandra whipped her head around to ask, “How do you know that?”

“I just do,” she hummed in reply. She didn’t have to look at Cassandra’s face to know she was unsatisfied with that answer. She met Cassandra’s eyes framed by furrowed brows to confirm what she already predicted before. “Follow me.”

The prisoner took off in a sprint, not looking back to see if Cassandra would follow. Soon whatever horrors were coming out of those rifts would be encountered, along with the soldiers taking up arms against it.

 _Who is fighting?_ she wondered, the mark blazing and pulsating its green shine. She was getting closer to the rift.

She heard Cassandra grunt from behind, “Ugh, not him.” That didn’t give her an answer to her question. And she wasn’t prepared when Cassandra had stormed past her, pushing her to the ground. It didn’t help that there was a decent drop and the bottom of her chin met stacks of chipped brick.

“Really?!? By the Gods, I swear—" The prisoner lifted herself, only to stumble like a drunk when she was struck with awe over a sickly green glow.

The wicked swirling light teared the air in the ruins of a dilapidated building. Broken walls and shattered glass could not distract her from the sight of what would bring a sense of terror to all. She was falling into it… And she would have kept falling if only an otherworldly shape draped in torn rags did not come into her view. It emerged from the fade to join its cohorts, woven claws ready to meet flesh and blood.

A scramble between soldiers and demons played out before her. “Soldiers” was a generous word for this situation as most of them were unmoving armored bodies on the ground. There was Cassandra, a recent addition to the fight, off in a corner slashing her sword against a cluster of sinister shades, and there was another situated in the opposite part of the area fighting against three demons. They clawed at him, but their dust ridden bodies would be repelled once they got to a certain point near him.

_A barrier then? A mage?_

The newly birthed demon that just emerged from the open green scar was making its way towards the lone soldier.

The barrier was bending under the demons’ strikes. Demons do not tire as the living do, and they would always come back for their due, claws ready.

And she felt a pull to help him.

It was making its way to the lone soldier until a brick collided into its head; its body bowed forward from the impact. It was then its strangled neck made of woven flesh rotated 180 degrees, and she saw a single white eye direct its attention towards her hand.

With the demon, she looked down at her hand to see it held a brick.

It looked back up at her.

And started to move towards her.

 _Shit, shit, shit. I don’t have a weapon._ She shook her head vigorously. _It doesn’t matter, I don’t need a weapon._

A normal person with a lack of knowledge would not know that demons were spirits before they enter this world. It crafted its woven flesh from the raw magic of the fade. They do not claw their way to consume, but to be; to exist in a world filled with what they are missing on the inside. If she remembered correctly, they were the true form of demons: shades. The short explanation was that this shade was a “baby”, and she could take advantage of an inexperienced confused demon that didn’t know which way or how to swing its clawed talons. Of course, this was all an assumption on her part.

Her legs picked up a fast pace. The shade heaved its claws skyward.

Then she slowed. The claws fell downwards.

The shade miscalculated and threw down its claws too early that it missed her by a long shot. She used her hands to propel herself over the shade’s form, and to gain momentum to weave her way over broken walls towards the lone soldier. It seemed that he killed the other two shades and had one left.

Soon there will be none.

With the brick still in hand, she smashed it against the last demon’s head, and it crumpled to the ground, gushing a pool of black guck around it. Her frenzied breathing was visible as cloudy puffs in the wintry air. The rectangular brick she once held in her hand had dissolved into tiny crumbs and dust. She nonchalantly tossed the remainder of the “brick” onto the now-dead demon.

She turned to meet him, and time seemed to slow. There he was — the lone soldier, an elf — clutching his staff to his chest with white knuckles. He was clothed with a long green vest which hid a creamy linen sweater. She could see the thick copper strands of stitching that held the patches of cloth together, but it was a similarly green-colored belt which held tiny bags and bobbles secured all that he wore. A rough cord hung from his neck displaying the broken half of an animal’s jaw.

She looked to his face to see his lips in a straight line. For some reason, he seemed… uncomfortable. It could have been the destruction and death surrounding them, or it could have been… her.

Her cheeks were strained, and she shivered from the freezing wind on the surface of her teeth. Was she smiling? Her smile faltered, and she decided to mirror his expression and adjusted her lips to a close accordingly. The scrambling of her stomach still hadn’t stopped since her sprint through the forest, instead it amplified to an apex at this current moment in time.

The prisoner ignored it, and reached her hand out to him in greeting. It was the polite thing to do, wasn’t it?

The lone soldier’s eyes followed the arch her hand travelled to reach for the greeting, and glinted with recognition as soon as he saw a green shine. His previously frozen stature melted as he hastily grabbed her outward hand in his. Astonished; her feet stumbled as he dragged her behind him to the rift as if she weighed nothing.

“Quickly! Before more come through!”

His slender fingers covered the back of her marked hand as he raised it upwards at the rift.

The mark lashed out to find familiarity. It connected with the rift and started to hungrily pull her into it, urging her to fall into its unmistakable serenity. She was mesmerized, and she was also losing herself. The lone soldier held her steady and resisted its pull making her remember where she was.

He screamed, “Focus!”

And she did.

Like a lock and key, the swirling tear snapped to a close, and the space it once occupied was now empty. The hollow shells of the dead and the barely standing cobble stone walls of the former building were the only physical things left as evidence.

She felt something inside her change. Something more permanent situated itself inside her, worming its way up and down her arm, like a tree situating its roots.

She snapped her hand away from his prying grip, clutching it to her chest. “What did you do?!?”

The firm line his lips previously formed were now upturned into a small smile. The crinkle at the edges of his eyes told her that his reaction was genuine happiness. “I did nothing, the credit is yours.”

She shook her head, finding error in his words. “You mean the mark.”

 _At least, this is good for something,_ she thought in a sideways glance towards the ground. She didn’t care to admit it out loud. Unfortunately, this _thing_ probably had more tricks and fiery pain to throw at her. It did not deserve praise.

“Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach’s wake — and it seems I was correct.” He spoke his words with perfect enunciation in a lithe accent, but his explanation was leaving herself more than less confused.

 _Have we met?_ she wondered, finding herself staring far too closely at the curves of his cheekbones.

Her thoughts scattered like a swarm of butterflies when Cassandra barged into the conversation. “Meaning it could also close the breach itself,” she said, relief tinged in her breath.

“Possibly.” He nodded at Cassandra, but directed his curious gaze and full attention towards the prisoner. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

She replied with a shrug, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. She’ll take the compliment.

“Good to know. Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”

The new cynical voice came from below, and the prisoner had to look down to see that there was… There was a dwarf. With a crossbow. Where did he come from?

The dwarf introduced himself with a heroic bow and a tilt of his imaginary hat. “Varric Tethras: Rogue, Storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag-a-long.” He ended his statement with a wink. There was a noticeable groan in the background from Cassandra. It was good to know that Cassandra disliked someone far more than she… And because of that, she made the intelligent decision to immediately become friends with this charming man.

“Are you with the chantry,” she asked with sincerity until she glanced at Cassandra and saw the flaring nostrils and grimace planted on her face, “or…?”

_Maybe not?_

Even the elven mage chuckled at her question. “Was that serious question?”

_It was._

“Technically, I’m a prisoner, just like you.”

She started, “I—”

“SHE agreed to come with us willingly, Varric,” Cassandra sneered, positioning herself in front of the prisoner to glare down at the dwarf.

“I’m sure the chains we originally had on were just for fun then.” The prisoner observed Varric peering at her bloody wrists. She slid the sleeves of her coat further down to obscure the inflamed, bleeding skin. It was itching.

“I brought you here to tell your story to the divine, Varric,” Cassandra angrily sighed, “Clearly that is no longer necessary.”

“Yet, here I am,” he muttered, “Lucky for you, considering current events.”

Cassandra locked her eyes in a death stare with Varric, and neither did he stand down from the challenge. An intense silence ensued between the two participants, and the two unwilling bystanders.

The prisoner took it upon herself to interject into the conversation, just to diffuse the growing tension. “It is good to meet you, Varric Tethras.”

She extended her hand in greeting. Varric flinched, his skin paled from a tender olive to a deathly white. She wasn’t that dirty to warrant that kind of response. She could smell blood and the plaster of whatever was on her face that felt an inch thick, but she wasn’t _that_ filthy. Okay, perhaps she was, but the only thing that was close to clean was her left hand — the hand that bore the mark — that was extended in greeting.

_Oh._

She hastily switched hands, left to right. Varric regained a little color and returned the handshake with a lop-sided grin, although a bit strained. She found herself beaming a tiny smile in return.

The man that had been silent for the duration of the conversation leaned forward to catch the prisoner’s notice. “You may reconsider that stance in time.”

“Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.” Varric dismissed the other man’s slight with a wave of his hand, and a hearty laugh of his own.

 _“Chuckles” does have a nice chuckle. Wait, what? Where did that thought come from?_ She internally scolded herself for that thought. She peeked to see Chuckles looking at her again with an odd expression she couldn’t quite comprehend. _Is there something on my face? Probably blood… or demon guts. Eugh._

“Absolutely not!” Cassandra scoffed, shifting and rolling her shoulders. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but—”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore.” Varric warned in an equally threating tone that rivaled Cassandra’s, “You _need_ me.”

“Ugh.” Cassandra gave a curt grunt, and she retreated with balled fists at her sides. She lost the battle of words. And for once, in a blissfully sweet moment, the prisoner found herself dumbfounded and incredibly impressed by Varric Tethras: “The Unwelcome Tag-a-Long”. She repressed the giggle bubbling up her throat, not forgetting Cassandra’s smite.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” He bobbed his head in courteous greeting. “I am pleased to see you still live.” Solas shifted his bare feet on the cold snow ridden stones, and gave a polite smile, but no extended hand to shake.

“A pleasure." She returned the smile, placed a hand over her heart and tilted her head down in a curt bow. Solas’ small smile changed to a small opened mouth, but the expression disappeared as quickly as it came.

“He means,” the dwarf interrupted, ““I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.””

“You seem to know a great deal about it all,” she inquired, wondering about the man that kept her death at bay.

Cassandra said with arms crossed, “Solas is an apostate.” Varric threw her another wink, but Cassandra whirled her head away, pretending to be oblivious to his existence. She was still licking her wounds from their spat.

“Technically all mages are apostates now, Cassandra.” Solas rectified, leaning on his wooden staff. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.”

 _He is no circle mage. He cannot be Dalish either,_ she reasoned inside her mind, _He is… odd._

“And what will you do once this is over?”

“One hopes those in power will remember who helped, and who did not.”

He left her with more questions than answers when he turned his body towards Cassandra. “Cassandra, you should know: The magic involved here is unlike any I’ve seen. Your prisoner is no mage, but I find it difficult to imagine _any_ mage having such power.”

“Understood.” Cassandra said, already marching down a path near the bank. “We must get to the forward camp quickly. This way. The road is ahead is blocked.”

Solas agreed, removing himself from the conversation to accompany Cassandra, “We must move quickly.” She only looked on to catch sight of his bare feet stamping the pearl white snow.

The prisoner heard a voice echo in her head, _Shoes are meant for the free, little one._ Her eyebrows scrunched after that invasive thought.

“Well, Bianca’s excited.” She looked to her left to see the obviously not excited dwarf look up at her with a grim face.

“Who’s Bianca? The crossbow? You named your crossbow?”

“And why not? She’s a beauty. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he complimented his weapon, giving her a pat and a rub and a kiss. “And your name?”

_Uh… Good question._

“What is your name?” He repeated the question, eyebrows downturned frankly wondering if she misheard his inquiry.

“You’re the first person to ask me that today. It is probably for the best if you did not know. Another face, another name… what does it matter?” Especially since he probably won’t have a chance to use it again after today.

“Jeez, it’s just a name.”

She let out a sigh. “I don’t know, exactly. My brain is a bit scrambled right now.”

Varric gave her a look of pity, but he leaned into her and lowered his voice to whisper, “Your name is Ellana.”

Then he skirted after Cassandra and Solas, and she was left alone.

She had more questions than answers. But before her questions would be answered and before she chased them down the bank’s path, she looked back to see the shade she leapt over minutes ago. It had a bolt arrow straight through its eye. She would have to thank Bianca later. But if she remembered correctly, a shade could have also been the soul of a recently deceased finding its path back to where it was exactly before their life was taken by unfortunate circumstances. She didn’t want to be like that shade wandering a tragic world without a name.

She believed him. Her name was Ellana.

☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ Ellana’s Perspective ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉

Ellana could have easily made her way down the steep decline in a few light steps.

Cassandra was in front of the slightly larger party leading them to the forward encampment where the last bit of military force stands ready to fight against the breach. Ellana could not see the expression on Cassandra’s face, but by the way Cassandra’s hand gripped the pommel of her still surprisingly sheathed sword, she could tell that Cassandra was incredibly annoyed…. Incredibly annoyed by the five-foot dwarf chatting away at her. The dwarf’s chatting transformed into a back-and-forth bickering once Cassandra finally decided to reply to his one-sided conversation.

“What happened to your shield, Seeker? Did you lose it?”

“None of your business, dwarf.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Seeker.”

She would also watch him; the quiet man that that carried himself with a tall posture, and silently eluded confidence. At least, she would watch him when he wasn’t looking at her. His name was Solas. She might have been mistaken; he may have not exactly been looking at her with his curious eyes, but instead the mark. He was the one that had kept her from dying from its magic after all. It was only natural he was curious about it. Perhaps, he wondered what it looked like now. She didn’t, but she knew how it felt. The scar had planted its roots in the veins of her arm all the way up to the base of her jaw. The scorching pain— though dormant right now— would eventually pave its way closer to her heart.

Alas, they were all still making progress making their way down albeit slower than if it were without the two conflicting personalities. It was entertaining to watch Cassandra’s shoulders steadily move higher and higher with every word that slipped out of Varric Tethras’ mouth.

_Just like an old married couple._

She heard a chuckle from the man infront of her. Did she say that out loud?

“You are Dalish, and clearly away from the rest of your clan,” he stated while he used his staff to steady his walk down the slope by the river’s bank.

There was Cassandra, who was a human, and then there was Varric, a dwarf. He was apparently trying to make conversation with _her_ then.

Impulsively, her hands made their way to feel the point of her ears, and then followed the length to meet the raised skin present on her cheekbones. She languidly felt the branching pattern scarred onto her face, and then looked at the base of her fingertips, somehow expecting that she would see the color of the blood writing. Instead, there was only a chunky paste residue the color of fresh snow sticky on the tips of her fingers.

“Did they send you here?”

 _He was correct_ , she thought dumbly, _I am Elven_. _How could I have forgotten what others can see right away when they look at me?_

She then heard him say, “Silence then. As you wish.”

And that comment made her wonder if he was accustomed to being ignored by others. Was it because he was a mage? Or because he was an elf?

“No, I-I was just thinking.” Her tongue stumbled to stutter out a basic reply. She took a short breath to ease it, and replied, “Ask your question.”

The rural path they trekked was declining, but he stopped to look up at her. “Did they send you here? All alone?”

 _I can’t remember._ She tried to remember as her slanted brows were proof of her attempt to recall drowned memories. _I think there was someone… with pumpkin hair… heart-shaped lips… I can’t recall._

There was a pause as she hesitated to answer, “I think so.”

“Do you not remember?” he questioned, eyes locked on hers.

_Perceptive._

“I don’t remember.” She wasn’t going to mention that she didn’t remember anything else even before she was sent to the Conclave. Her memory was pretty messed up, but that didn’t mean her general knowledgeability and cognition were erroneous. She could still smell the fresh oranges she would peel in early summer, the taste of sunlight falling through forest-top leaves, and how to sharpen a blade with a whetstone after the metal dulled from a tough squirmish.

Solas lifted his hand, palm upward, holding it out to her. It was a gentlemanly gesture that silently asked if he could hold her hand. She then realized that there was a steep drop, and that Solas was actually preventing an accident involving her and a sprained ankle. 

She placed her hand on the palm of his, and took note that he did not flinch from the mark… or seem to be hiding any sort of thinly coveted nervousness… like the others.

Regardless, his hand was warm.

“I have wandered many roads in my time; crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. I offered to share knowledge… only to be attacked for no greater reason than superstition.”

 _Crossed paths? He is not Dalish then… nor a mage of the circle. He can’t be a city elf, the templars would have found him too easily,_ she thought with the tilt of her head. _He is an outlier. An odd person indeed..._

“Well, how would you react if some random stranger came up to you and started lecturing you on knowledge you already learned from your elders?” she said as she hopped down and landed across from him.

He hesitated. “I would hear what they had to say.”

“You would hear, but would you listen? Least of all, believe? They probably thought you were a circle mage trying to escape from templars,” she continued with the raise of her chin, “Is it that remarkable for a Dalish clan to show interest in the outcome of a war that affects them?”

 _“_ I find it unusual for the Dalish to take interest in human affairs.” His voice deepened. “Enough to send **_you_** to spy on the Divine’s meeting.”

His strict tone and the way his eyes skimmed over her face betrayed a seriousness and most of all, a most indisputable certainty that he knew that he was right. That he was right to think that she was indeed a spy for the Dalish. She clenched down on her teeth, thinking of the next rebuttal to wipe that slight upward curve of his lips off his face, and erase the look in his eyes.

She jerked her hand away. “You should know **_well enough to be careful_** with your accusations.”

“ _Well enough to be suspicious_.”

 _Snide bastard… But it would explain a few things,_ she admitted to herself, glancing over to Cassandra only to find the dwarf that occupied the space by Cassandra’s side was no longer there chastising the Seeker over how his feet were cold.

“Can’t you elves just get along for once?” Varric blurted from below, interjecting himself as a peacekeeper into the conversation. He stationed himself between the two elves, proceeding to look back-and-forth at them. She didn’t bother to even glance at the dwarf for she was still watching Solas watching her, standing tall, and waiting for a reply.

With a huff, she walked off to continue the trek down the path. The footprints that trailed behind her in the snow were deeper than they needed to be. Her ears perked to take in the sound of many short heavy steps beside her. She could already hear what her newfound dwarven company was going to say next.

“Sooo are you innocent?”

Ellana increased her pace to catch up with Cassandra, wishing for her stoic silence. She repeated the answer she had said many times in the past minutes, “I don’t remember what happened.”

“Hah! That’ll get you every time,” Varric shrugged, “Should-a spun-a story.”

“That’s what **_you_** would’ve done, _Varric_.” Cassandra added, emphasizing a bite on his name. 

“It’s more believable and less prone to result in premature execution.” Varric chided at Cassandra from behind, then raised a hand to his mouth to shamelessly whisper at the elf beside him, “You should probably escape while you can. I won’t tell Cassandra which way you run when she’s not looking.”

Cassandra growled, “Varric. I. Can. Hear. You.”

“What? You don’t think your chantry priests are gonna hang her up the moment they see her hand, Seeker?” Varric exclaimed with his arms in the air, mimicking a crochety old man’s voice, “‘I hereby command you to execute this criminal.’ Come on, I’ve written enough stories to—"

“Stop. You’re scaring her.” Solas spoke at Varric and Cassandra, but mostly at Varric. The rogue responded by scratching his head and for once, Cassandra expressed contentment at Varric’s chagrin with a pleased grunt. She smacked his shoulder to “get a move on”.

Solas must have noticed her silence.

But her lack of participation in Varric’s theatrics was just that… She didn’t have anything to input into the conversation, nor did she have any intention of escaping from the whatever fate the mark had volunteered her to take part in. She was not screaming in her head or shivering in the darkest corner of a fleeting daydream. Just contemplating…

_These breaths and these steps were most likely to be my last. Is that blatant acceptance?_

She felt a tap on her shoulder, and craned her neck to meet him with widened eyes, a bit baffled he was still speaking to her after their last talk.

“Your memory should come back to you in time,” he said to her in a lowered voice, like it was an exchange that was meant to be a secret only for them.

She returned a polite smile before he turned away.

Then her smile fell.

☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉

The dried garlic and herbs that hung from the walls swung slightly at her investigation through pantry’s cupboards. Skins of rams and druffaloes were spread out on the floor, and for once, she felt the need to take off her boots just to feel the homely comfort of furs on her feet.

Solas was currently somewhere in one of the other rooms, and she… well, she was scavenging for something to eat in the kitchen.

This small cedar-wood cabin was devoid of its previous residents. Whether they were dead, or they evacuated themselves after the explosion, was up for debate. When Cassandra gave her orders to search this cabin for survivors, Ellana already knew that there were no people left in this area. Nevertheless, she did not protest as Cassandra was an impossibly difficult woman to argue with in the heat of the moment.

She slammed the last cupboard door with a sigh, and resigned to lean against them. She peered through long strands of hair at barrels stacked on top of each other in the corner of the cabin. They were possibly filled with grains or salted meat, preserved for harsher seasons prone to famine. She knew that she didn’t have the time to look through them, and swallowed the watering saliva in her mouth at the idea of food. They needed to move on.

 _I should go find Solas and head to the meeting place where Cassandra and Varric will be,_ she thought with the tilt of her head, and cracked stiff muscles in her neck. _He should be in the other room._

She pushed herself away from the counter and started to take steps to the where Solas would be … until she saw him in the doorway. She stopped mid-step. She didn’t need to look for the apostate elf, for he was right there, studying her.

“Didn’t find anyone?” she questioned, hoping to direct the conversation away from her snooping through drawers and cabinets. He probably heard her slamming and kicking the wooden cupboards though…

“No one is here.” He stated matter-of-factly as if he expected this outcome. “We should hurry to meet with the Seeker.”

He detached his gaze from hers, and left the cabin. She quickly followed him out the door. He was quieter this time and moving far more quickly, obviously not in the mood for conversation. She didn’t mind and opted to watch the wooden cup attached to his pack sway back-and-forth from his movement.

Cassandra was investigating another cabin at the opposite end of the pond with Varric. Before Cassandra stormed off, she threw out orders that they would regroup at the plaza between the cabins and before a set of stairs ingrained into the cliff. She was a bit surprised that Cassandra left her in the supervision of Solas — an apostate elf with no allegiance to humans.

_Maybe she took my promise quite seriously after all?_

Solas shifted to an abrupt stop in the middle of the plaza and stood straight, waiting, staff in hand. From that very plaza, they would eventually see Cassandra and Varric climb up the path to where they awaited them. She could also see the frozen ice on the lake reflect the sunset’s dying light. Atramentous clouds shrouded the skies and a sickly green glow would be the only light to illuminate the land after the sun’s warm light disappeared. She took in the sight before the orange circle dipped below the horizon. It reminded her of the egg yolk falling out of its cracked shell. Then it was gone, and green light was left to dance off the ice, tainting it with its color.

There was electric tingle in her molars. Unconsciously, she was rubbing her hand that bore the mark, trying to ease the pain that was acting up again. There was another burning sensation on the side of her face, but that feeling was from the stare of the fellow that stood beside her.

“What?” she blurted, the words impulsively escaping sharp as a knife from her mouth.

“Nothing,” he replied, rolling his eyes away from her.

Her voice wasn’t meant to sound so brutal, but he interrupted her moment of peace.

But once again, her hand began to shake uncontrollably, magic lashed out in whipping green sparks. Her other hand grasped the other to seize it before she fell on her side. An excruciating white pain was eating its way up her left arm. And she had to let out scream before it was trapped in her throat.

For a long while, all she could see in her vision was blotted spots like ink spilling on paper, and white noise swished inside her head as if her ear was stuck to an hourglass, making the piling of sand the only thing she could hear.

She gasped for air.

But the comfort of a hand on her back brought her back to reality. It rubbed up and down in a soothing motion, just as a parent would to a child. A warmth washed over her from head to toe. Her vision cleared and the noise quieted. Her eyes fluttered open to see her hands were placed against the ground, and she welcomed the feel of the cool solid stone and the flecks of snow underneath the palms of her hands.

“Shit. That looked like it hurt.” Brown boots soaked from snow shuffled into her view.

_Varric Tethras. Rogue. Storyteller. Unwelcome tag-a-long._

She didn’t deem to reply to the dwarf, even if her current condition had let her. Instead, she focused on catching breaths of oxygen that seemed to be escaping from her.

The man who had his hand placed firmly between her shoulder blades calmly spoke to her. “I can’t stop your mark from growing further… For your sake, I suggest we hurry.”

_And that is… Solas. An elf. An apostate… but all mages are apostates now._

She nodded at his request, and he took it as an answer for his hand on her back and his other on her arm to lift her to her feet. She slumped into him. If it weren’t for him, she would have plummeted to the ground… face first.

Infront of her stood a woman with chocolate brown eyes and armor that adorned a blazing eye. “I know it’s difficult, but we must keep moving.”

_Cassandra… The mean woman that is unusually nice right now… which is a bit disconcerting._

She released her sweaty hands that were clenched into Solas’ soft wool vest and managed to stagger to a stance.

“I know.” She tested her fingers by clenching and unclenching air, eventually just waving it off, but she thought she would mention that, “There’s a rift ahead.”

She looked at them. They were all quiet, eyes fixated on her, and Ellana’s lips frowned in confusion. _Did I say something odd?_ Her voice sounded more hoarse than it was suppose to — maybe it was that?

Cassandra stepped forward. “Erm, yes, that was the original rift I was taking you to. But as you already know, we found another before we made it here.” Then took stride up the cliffside staircase. Varric, Solas and herself were shortly behind Cassandra, following her steps. Stairs was better than no stairs at least. 

Corpses of humans and demons alike began to litter the trail, and any straggler shades that were wandering were quickly cut down by Cassandra’s metal. She made quick work of them without anyone else’s help.

“I hope Leliana made it through all this,” Cassandra said, still gripping her sword dripping black liquid from her kill.

“Oh?” Varric assured her, “I’ve seen her in action before; She’s resourceful, Seeker.”

Many motionless demons were flat on the ground… with the noteworthy characteristic of being punctured by one or at most, two arrows. The person who slayed these demons had experience by the looks of it. Ellana placed her foot on the corpse of the demon and pulled out the arrow in one slick motion. There was a “pop”, a splatter of liquid she didn’t want to think about, and a ghastly smell of rotten eggs and meat. She covered her mouth and nose with her free hand but, it didn’t keep her eyes from watering. She examined the make of the arrow while blinking back tears. The wrapping and the sleek shape of the arrowhead reminded her of an elven arrow-smith technique.

_Resourceful isn’t the word I would use. It seems that Cassandra isn’t the scary one to be watching out for._

“We will see for ourselves at the forward camp,” Solas said, earning her attention, “We are almost there.”

☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉ ☉

“The rift is gone. Open the gate.”

“Right away, Lady Cassandra.”

Another rift sealed, and all she had to do was simply run with her hand raised to it. The others did the heavy lifting by covering her from fiery projectiles from wailing wisps, and cuts from the talons of inky shade demons.

The pulse of an unrecognizable heartbeat burned into her skin was slowly becoming familiar. The fact that she was getting accustomed to it was unwanted on her part, it made her jaw tighten in displeasure. Her hand even felt a bit better after sealing the second rift they encountered that was in front of the gates of the forward encampment…that was on a bridge…right beside the breach.

 _Do I have to remind Cassandra what all the other bridges up until now looked like?_ She lifted her head to take in the sight of the green hole that was much closer to her than it was ever before.

“We are clear for the moment.” Solas praised her, “Well done.”

“Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful,” Varric said, pointing to her, and offering a wide smile.

“Useful?” Ellana scoffed, “Did you not see me in crippling pain minutes ago?”

“Oh yeah.”

“We did.”

She grumbled under her breath. ~~~~

They made their way through the gates into a cluttered area of silent bodies and injured soldiers. A weight was slowly building upon her back as gazes from all sides started to notice her. She closed her palm to hide the green shine. It was a useless reaction. They probably already saw it and knew who she was… and what they think she had done to them and their loved ones… to the others that didn’t make it to where they were right now. She made the mistake of meeting the eyes of a few of the soldiers, and some that did not. Their expressions and bloodstained bandages spoke more than words ever could, and she had to look away. A rope of guilt wrapped around her throat, constricting and tightening over her shallow breaths.

In the midst of the muffled chatter of injured soldiers, she found herself listening to a booming argument with an unfamiliar and a familiar voice. The unfamiliar voice being one of an old man’s that had the charm of a squealing pig, and the familiar voice being the one of the voices that she heard back in her prison cell.

“We must prepare the soldiers. The prisoner must get to the temple of sacred ashes. It is our only chance.”

“We will do no such thing, Leliana. You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.”

“ _I_ have caused trouble?”

“You, Cassandra, Most Holy— Haven’t you all done enough already?”

Cassandra and the others strided on towards the direction of the noise. That wasn’t surprising.

Leliana looked the same as she did a few hours ago, wearing a pristine grey hood with not even a splatter of demon guts. Except she had a bow and a full quiver of arrows. Ellana wondered if she plucked one of the arrows out of that quiver and inspected it, if it would match the ones that pierced the demons littering the path up to this bridge. She thought, no, she knew they would, and Ellana was impressed by her humbly guised skill… And then there was the old man beside her.

“You made it.” Leliana spoke to Cassandra, but then shifted her attention to make eye contact with Ellana. “Chancellor Roderick, this is—”

“I know who _the elf_ is.” Chancellor pointed his stubby finger in accusation. “As grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux,” Chancellor Roderick said, then added, “To face execution.”

_Ah, I thought there would at least be a trial first before I would hear the word “execution” thrown my way…?_

Ellana blinked away the shock. This man – Chancellor Roderick – held his finger at her, eyes wide and shivering. But was he shivering from the mountain’s winter-wind or from something else? The thick red and white holy robe draped over his shoulders could easily blanket the entire army in extravagance and warmth. He was not shivering from the cold. His winkled face gave her an inkling that she encountered that “look” far too often, enough to call it familiar.

 _Ah, I know that look._ As she met his stare, he seemed to shake even more. _Fear, my old friend._

“Order me?” Cassandra advanced towards the Chancellor, her body shaking in rage. “You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!”

Ellana’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. For once, Cassandra’s wrath was not directed at her… or Varric. In the corner of her eye, she swore she saw a sly smile on Varric’s face.

The Chancellor gladly turned his finger away to point at Cassandra. The Chancellor shot back in an outrageous tone, red-faced and squealing, “And you are a thug! But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry.”

“No,” Leliana interjected as always in the same sterile tone, “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.”

“Justinia is dead!” Chancellor Roderick touched his head in what she thought was a religious gesture. “We must elect a replacement, and _obey_ her orders on the matter.”

“What? Are you serious?” The words just slipped out of her mouth before she knew it. She could feel all eyes on her, especially a piercing set of midnight-blue eyes pinned on her. Leliana, who reminded her of a raven, watched her face, and inspected her reactions in what she thought was a search for guilt. Ellana urged herself to stay still under Leliana’s ruthless judgement, but she couldn’t stay silent as she was once the center of attention once again, she had to continue, “You’re going to run away with your tail in between your legs and let the breach and demons spread across the land while you hold an election? Gods know how long those take.” 

The chancellor advanced toward her, not close enough that she could reach out and grab him, but close enough that she knew his height barely even reached the height below her shoulders. “You… YOU BROUGHT THIS UPON US IN THE FIRST PLACE.”

“Closing the breach is the more pressing issue in this discussion. Not pointing fingers, Chancellor.”

“There aren’t any fingers to point because you KILLED ALL OF THEM. You shouldn’t even be standing here in the first place!” He turned to Cassandra after openly displaying his disgust on his face, and plead, “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

“No. We can stop this before it is too late,” Cassandra said, “We must charge to the temple.”

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“It is the quickest route,” Cassandra sniped back at the nag.

“But it is not the safest route.” Leliana tapped on a rolled-out map held down by cups and daggers on a wooden table beside them. Cassandra went beside Leliana and leaned over to inspect the map with her. “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

_So the leaders are all dead, and none of them are actually in charge here…_

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It is too risky.” Cassandra waved her hand in dismissal.

“Listen to me,” the Chancellor called to deaf ears, “Abandon this now before more lives are lost.”

 _Abandonment? No, a decision needs to be made soon before more lives are lost---aaarhk!_ She had to restrain her left hand with her right to seize the convulsions. It still hurt, but not as bad as the last time it acted out. She really couldn’t tell if the pain getting better or if she was just getting used to it. She wouldn’t give the Chancellor the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. For all she cared, he could go jump off the bridge right now. She didn’t have to worry about that thought since the chancellor screeched at her once he saw the green light thrash out from her hand. He backed away with arms flailing in the air, and ended up bumping into Leliana. Leliana gave a look to him that held no kindness.

Cassandra was unfazed as she switched her gaze from Leliana, and faced the prisoner with steely eyes and asked, “How do you think we should proceed?”

“What?!? Now you’re asking me what I think?” She gibed back at the woman, utterly baffled as she comforted her marked hand near her heart. _This woman is impossible!_

“You have the mark,” Solas promptly added, observing her from the side. She gawked at him, and he raised his eyebrows.

“And the one we must keep alive.” Cassandra shifted on her feet and then insisted, “Since we cannot agree on our own…”

Ellana stared at her with her mouth agape. She shook her head to shake off the disbelief, then pressed fingers to close her lips in thought, trapping any impulsive words from slipping out any hasty thoughts again.

Finally, after her moment of thought, Ellana gave a sidelong glance at the mountain path ahead.

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Varric let out an audible sigh as he bent down. “Guess we found the soldiers.”

Ellana swerved in her tracks, heeding her legs to a complete stop behind Varric lest she trip over his crouched figure and the snowy lumps on the ground. There were three…no, five lumps laid strewn about underneath the exit of the mountain path mines they ran through with hasty steps. And as she moved closer, she could make out arms and legs shooting out from the snow. She quickly whipped her head away, avoiding the sight of pale faces frozen in time.

“How did you notice them so quickly, Varric?” She wasn’t exactly looking at Varric straight in the eye to have a proper conversation, but it would have to do…

“Don’t ya know? Dwarven eyes are better in the night than your Elven ones, Lucky.” Varric let out a mix of morbid chuckle and a lasting sigh. “Or maybe y’know, just experience.”

Ellana pursed her lips. She remembered the words the Chancellor taunted the Seeker with before they left.

_On your head be the consequences, Seeker._

Perhaps, they should had charged with the soldiers to the temple. A wasted effort it was to take this path to only find more death… It was an impossible choice to be placed upon her, but it was better than running.

Ellana looked back into the mountain’s mine tunnel to see the swaying flame from Solas’ staff and Cassandra jogging beside him. She waited in the cold for the unlikely pair to come to a stop beside her.

“How many?” Cassandra asked in more of an order than a question.

Solas and Ellana shared a glance. “I don’t know,” Ellana replied.

And when Varric didn’t answer Cassandra grabbed Solas’ burning staff. A bead of sweat dripped down Cassandra’s forehead as she moved the flame’s light around while squinting her eyes. They darted around the snow’s surface to count the number of causalities. “One, two, three…five. That cannot be all of them.”

Varric looked up at Cassandra, a flicker of hope setting upon his face. “So the others could be holed up ahead?”

“Our priority must be the breach,” Solas readily reminded everyone as he snatched back his wooden staff from Cassandra.

“What?” Ellana teased, “We can’t spend some of our precious time saving a few lives along the way?”

Solas met Ellana’s stare. “A few lives are nothing compared to millions.”

“And yet, here we are. After all that time arguing, I’m surprised the breach hasn’t swallowed us whole.” Ellana shrugged, and then reasoned, “It should be no trouble if they are along the way.”

Solas jaw tensed. “Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe.”

“I’m leaving that to our Elven friend here.” Varric patted off the snow on his knees. “Not you, Chuckles. You’re not the _lucky_ one here.”

“I am glad for your input, Master Tethras.” Solas let out a small sigh.

“That’s the spirit.” Varric laughed. “Hey Seeker, how come the prisoner over here doesn’t have a weapon?”

_His mood changed rather quickly didn’t it? Along with the conversation too._

Cassandra dismissed Varric’s question, barely looking his way. “She doesn’t need one, _Varric_.”

“You still think she’s guilty, Seeker? Look! She can’t even look the dead in the face.” Varric swung his arms around him incredulously. “She’s defenceless.”

Cassandra placed her hands on her hips, and searched for Varric’s face in the dim firelight from Solas’ staff. “She is not _defenceless_ ,” then argued, “If she stays behind us, she will be fine.”

Varric muttered, “Yeah, well that’s hard when the rift is in the middle of all the demons.”

“Enough,” Cassandra ordered, “Let us keep moving.” She briskly ran onward.

Varric gave a _I-really-tried-my-best_ look at Ellana. She returned a _I-already-tried-that-but-thanks_ shrug. Varric seemed to understand as he shook his head with irritation, and continued to mutter snide comebacks as his legs picked up a pace to follow the leader.

Ellana listened to the crunch of fresh snow beside her, obviously noticeable now without all the arguing between Varric and Cassandra. “Hmm,” Solas asked, “Shall we move?”

She turned her waning attention towards the man standing beside her. “Oh, right. Yes.” She shifted slightly away from him, uncomfortable about how close he was beside her… But when he started to turn away, he suddenly stopped. She had latched onto his sleeve with her thumb and index finger. She watched his face as he looked down at his sleeve, and then slowly back up at her face in inspection. A glint of curiosity in his eyes along with something else akin to a hidden sadness.

 _Shit. You’re staring,_ she scolded herself and coughed out an excuse, “I think I owe you my thanks.”

Solas returned a blank stare. 

_Did I grow a second head?_ She scratched her neck to check. When she didn’t feel a second lump, she continued, hoping he would catch on, “For saving my life.”

His eyebrows started to furrow, and his voice turned stern. “Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.”

 _How grim and fatalistic._ A tug from her hand told her his sleeve had left her grip and that he began to leave her there. She imagined that even if she managed to hold onto his sleeve while he walked away from her, she would end up holding onto a piece of string. Eventually, she could follow that golden string and find him again.

 _Well, there is only so much string until he is in his breeches…_ She puffed out her cheeks, and pondered, _HAHA! Breeches… Ugh, more running._

Ellana decided to catch up and jogged closely behind Solas. As she moved her legs through increasing wet snow, Ellana wondered how Cassandra could run without a light guiding her path… but then she started to hear the cries of pain that served as a valid guidance. And soon enough, the green flashes of light from another rift came afterwards – another demon-spitting hole floating above a forest of spruce trees.

“Lieutenant!” Cassandra shouted, “You’re alive!”

The lieutenant squeaked out, “Ha, barely.”

The lieutenant along with a few of her surviving were drenched in snow and blood. The stagnant soldiers frozen in place were whimpering as they waved their swords at the ground, each one letting out a panicked shriek when the rift crackled out an unnatural noise. With the battlefield deceptively empty, Ellana took that cue as her chance to get closer to the rift.

The lieutenant shouted at Ellana, “Wait! Watch the ground for—"

A rumbling beneath the ground made Ellana’s trip over her feet, and sink into a pile of snow that was disguising a shallow hole. Loose snow began to slip into another hole appearing before her face. It seemed to be digging itself until bony fingers attached to spindly hands ripped themselves out it. A gangly demon emerged, and stood crookedly before her. Its beady pupil-less eyes bore into her and a jawless mouth with a rotating spiral of triangular teeth was locked open in a silent screech.

Then a blue fire ignited the rear of its throat.

She felt a tingle in the mountain air surrounding her. She instinctively looked at where it came from, and that is where she saw Solas. He had staff in hand with the other outstretched motion to cast a spell…

 _No, that’s wrong,_ Ellana discerned, seeing the desperation in his outstretched hand, “ _Casted”! The spell failed!_

Ellana whirled her head back just in time to see the fire pour out of the demon’s mouth…. onto Cassandra’s shield. Cassandra guarded her from that freakish demon, shield raised to deflect the fire.

“What are you waiting for!?” Varric pulled her out of the wet snow then pushed her off in the direction of the rift. “GO CLOSE THE RIFT!”

Those terrors all began to dig themselves out of the snowy soil one after the other, revealing the swarm that was lying in wait beneath the Earth. 

As she got closer to the rift, the more see noticed a fallen figure coming into view. A boy dressed in soldier’s armor dragging himself away from a demon drinking in his terror. The demon stalked him on its skeletal legs, blue flames bursting from its mouth. The boy-soldier was about to be burnt to a crisp, and none of his comrades were going to help him by the looks it.

Ellana took a slight detour, already hearing the “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” from Cassandra in the background. She tugged off the bloodstained scarf she adorned from her neck, threw it, and slung it around the demon’s leg from behind. She yanked – the demon was heftier making her back muscles cry in pain. The demon did not screech as it plummeted to the ground – fire was the only thing that filled its mouth. And with an abrupt stamp of her foot on the right place of its malnourished neck, the fire choked and died.

She took one last glimpse at the boy-soldier puffing out horrified puffs of breath from flushed cheeks. She left him there hugging his legs with the crooked demon with a now crooked neck.

_He’s fine._

Her hand reached out to let the mark connect with the rift. There were cries of panic and clangs of metal that reached her ears from the soldiers around her. The soldiers were not “fighting”, they were merely trying to defend themselves. It was obvious from their frantic footwork that they had no experience fighting demons that spat fire. Her eyes wandered to see that they were all becoming just like the boy-soldier. Her thoughts began to spiral…

_They’re all going to die. They’re all doing to die…_

When a green skeletal hand clamped down on her arm, she gasped. Its mouth burning a fire inched closer to her. She scrunched her eyes shut and remembered Solas telling her to “focus”!

She urged the rift to close.

_Close, close, close, close, close, GODSDAMMIT CLOSE!_

When she opened her eyes, no demons were around her or the others. A shimmering dust glowing an ethereal light floated, and fluffy snowflakes falling from the night sky. Ellana staggered backwards to lean on a brick pillar. Her aching arm was hot and gushing blood from four cuts left by a demon’s claw. She decided that it was the demon’s fault (and not the rift’s this time) that she was in pain this time.

“Hey, you alright?”

She held down the wound, placing pressure on it. “Yes.”

“Oh no, you’re not.” A bandage appeared in Varric’s hands and he proceeded to claim her arm to wrap the wound. Varric mimicked a higher pitched womanly voice as he wrapped bandage, “Oh no Varric! She’s not defenceless. She doesn’t need a weapon. All she has to do is stay behind us while we are **ass-deep in demons, Varric.** ”

“Mhmm.” Ellana’s head was nodding off a sleepiness.

“I reeeally hope whatever the _shit_ that is works on the big one.” When he finished wrapping, a hand scratched his cheek and muffled the last part of his rant, “Or else we’re all nugshit. Hey, don’t fall asleep there—”

“I-I thank you, miss. You have my sincerest gratitude.”

Ellana was shocked awake by a voice that wasn’t Varric’s. He had been talking so long that it was droning out everything else.

“Sure,” she replied dumbly. The boy-soldier scrambled to offer a flask filled with a reddish liquid, and she took it without hesitation, excited at the offer of food. The boy scuffed his boots on the ground waiting for her to drink his offering. She grimaced as she took a whiff of the potion, and she grimaced more when she swallowed it. A barely audible, “Thank you,” followed.

The boy-soldier gave a wide smile displaying his lack of canine teeth. He skirted away to his Lieutenant. His legs had been crippled before, and the only explanation for his recovery could have been from the healer observing from the sidelines.

“Sealed, as before,” Solas said, amusement in his voice, “You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

“All in a day’s work. Closing rifts and saving soldiers is what I do.” Ellana let out a chuckled which turned into a coughing fit, “Ow, don’t make me laugh. My poor ribs…”

Ellana could sense someone’s attention on her, and looked on to see Cassandra making that weird face at her again. Ellana tilted her head in question, but Cassandra declined to answer when she went on to help the Lieutenant to her feet.

“Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra,” the Lieutenant spoke with relief and obvious exhaustion, “I don’t think we could have held out much longer.”

“Thank our prisoner, Lieutenant. She insisted we come this way.”

“The prisoner?”

She shifted nervously, uncomfortable with the way the eyes of the Lieutenant and her remaining soldiers flicked her way to rest on her. She lowered her gaze…

_The prisoner… I had forgotten for a time that I might be the one to blame for all of this._

Cassandra was already throwing orders to the remaining infantry. “The way into the valley behind us is clear for the moment. Go, while you still can.” The surviving soldiers gave nods and small words of thanks as they passed by Ellana before they disappeared into the dark.

“The path seems to be clear of demons as well. Let’s hurry to the temple before that changes.”

“What’s left of it.”

“What do you mean “left of it”?”

“Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

“Laid waste? Do you mean destroyed? From the blast?”

“Yes.”

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She let out a breath, thankful that there was no breeze to sweep all the ash into her lungs. But no one saw her mouthing words meant for the dead. At first, she thought they were piles of rubble, or some sort of landscape common to the area, until she got closer to recognize the dead frozen in time. They didn’t have faces. The fire had peeled it away. They were on their knees, looking to the sky, hands bawled together in never-ending prayer. In their last moments, they had cried out to their Gods…

_Would they have remained as devoted to their Maker if they knew they would die like this? Torn in a field of ash and filled to the brim with despair?_

The smell of smoke and bone laid still on the air, it brought along a sense of deja-vu rather than repulsion. It riled the scratch she had been feeling for some time now, and it teased her of what she had obviously forgotten, like so many other things.

“How did I survive the blast?”

“You really have no idea how you survived?”

“No. Like I said before, I have no explanation to give to you, Cassandra.”

Solas and Varric stood together to the side. Solas leaning on his staff listening to the conversation, and Varric looking rather defeated at his surroundings.

“They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” Cassandra stopped and gestured at a burnt spot on the ground, “This is where our soldiers found you when you walked out of the fade….out of a rift that closed shortly after you.”

“I believe it was the Commander and two soldiers that found you. He was quite surprised to see something other than a demon come out a rift. He carried you in his arms, just a girl, all the way back to Haven… Or should I say a woman?” Leliana stood tall beside her, arm crossed along with a small army of soldiers at her back. A shadow of a smile ghosted on her lips. “So, you made it.”

“Uh, yes.” Ellana pulled her shoulders back to stand straight. “Yes, ma’am.”

Leliana smiled, satisfied. “Thank the Maker.”

Leliana’s piercing gaze slid away from Ellana and focused past her. In a blink, Leliana made her way in steady steps over to Cassandra, placing a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

Cassandra slouched. “It is difficult to bear… what has happened here.”

It was a mumble that Ellana – the one who thought responsible for all of this – was not supposed to hear. A private moment was happening between them. It was the kind of moment like sisters when they share their secrets between a dying candlelight. Ellana knew not to intrude, and instead tried to ignore the scene of Leliana bent into Cassandra’s ear, her lips mouthing hasty words in an urgent whisper.

Ellana felt a tug at her side, and then a pull of her hand as someone lead her somewhere. She looked down to see a freckled hand, and then she looked up through her blurred vision, to just make out who she thought was Solas… leading her. She couldn’t grasp as tightly onto his hand as he did hers. An overdue tiredness was pervading her limbs making them into jelly.

She called his name in question, “Solas?”

He was talking. She didn’t hear him when he said, “Seal it and perhaps we seal the breach.” She didn’t hear him when he continued to explain to her.

He had brought her somewhere that overlooked… well, the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Above what remained, the breach laid bare with a tail of levitating rocks and green magic hanging from it. She would have to make her way through a labyrinth of crumbling walls and stairs that circled the crater below to that tail of magic. The breach up in the sky was too high to reach, and now she was baffled as to how she would even begin to seal it. She had avoided looking too much at the breach on her short journey towards it, but now it was an unavoidable sight.

“I won’t survive long enough for that trial,” she murmured to herself in a daze.

A squeeze of her hand and she snapped out of it. She focused on him to the best of her ability, close enough to see that the freckles on his hands were also displaced on his face.

She said again, “Solas?”

“You were not listening—”

“No, I wasn’t listening,” she interrupted, “Can you let go of my hand?”

Her fingers had been outstretched while his hand clasped onto hers. She was glad it wasn’t her left hand he hand been holding onto, or else she thought it would’ve burned a hole in his palm.

He cleared his throat, and his hand slipped away. “Of course.” He turned his face away from her as he studied the scenery in front of him. She was left feeling confused with her hand warmer than it had ever been since she had awoken.

A recovered Cassandra that seemed to have defeated her slouched posture stood ready. Cassandra strode towards Ellana. “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

“This rift was the first, and it is the key.” Solas guided her attention below to a barely noticeable rift at the end of the “tail”. It looked smaller and much less threatening than any rift they had encountered so far.

“Seal it and perhaps we seal the breach,” Ellana said, finishing his sentence. _I was kind-of listening._

He nodded; eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly.

Cassandra interrupted, “Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple.”

Leliana’s soldiers marched to advantageous positions under her guidance and commands. They nestled themselves in crooks and crannies with their bow and arrows. It seemed that Cassandra would be the only foot soldier armed with sword and shield.

“Let’s find a way down,” — Cassandra grabbed Ellana’s arm in rightful warning — “And be careful…”

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The green from the sky didn’t mix with the red looming off the stone.

“Hey Seeker,” Varric said, “You know this stuff is red lyrium.”

“I see it, Varric.”

“But what’s it doing here? Argh, whatever! It’s evil. Whatever you do, don’t— HEY! DON’T TOUCH IT.”

Ellana’s reaching hand was suddenly stuck in place, a finger away from a tall piece of red shiny crystal shooting out from the ground. She snapped her hand back at the dwarf’s warning. “Sorry.” She scratched her cheek feeling foolish. “But you should’ve said the “evil” part sooner.”

Varric sighed with his entire body. “Come on, _Lucky._ You should know better.”

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple,” Solas remarked, “Corrupted it."

Varric let out a noise of disgust (similar to Cassandra’s).

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 **“Now is the hour of our victory.”** A voice boomed across the area, shaking the chips and pebbles of broken stone on the grounds with each articulation. It was bottomless, all-consuming, and most of all, unnatural in how each utterance painted the air with emptiness. **“Bring forth the sacrifice.”**

“What are we hearing?”

“At a guess: The person who created the breach.”

Mountains coddled the remains of the temple, threatening to collapse onto it to erase the rest of its existence. A rift partially open and partially sealed floated before a set of stairs that led to nowhere. A massive dark wooden door lay on the ground away, burnt with some pieces missing from it. It was familiar because she had latched her fingers onto the golden handle before and— something crushed under her foot.

She clasped her head in pain.

A ringing entered her ears.

The rift hissed.

The mark fizzled.

_So… Some… Someone… SOMEONE—_

“SOMEONE HELP ME!” A divine voice cried through heart wrenching sobs, “Please! Anyone! Help me!”

An old woman suspended from the sky by some magical force. Her skin was wrinkled and the color from her face was drained to a deathly white. Streams of tears made rivers from the old woman’s eyes to the bottom of her chin. Bubbles of tears floated downwards from the memory to pass unfazed through Cassandra’s reaching fingers.

**“Keep… the sacrifice still.”**

“What is going on in here?” A stern voice, clean and clear entered the conversation; Ellana recognized it as her own. The stranger which had her voice, stood there unnervingly straight and unnaturally still at the edge of the vision. She was dressed in one of the soldier’s tunic that looked far too large for her; the hooded coat was wide on her shoulders and its length falling below her knees. The woman’s face was revealed when she rushed to pull back the hood, the woman’s lips parted, “Divine Justina… VENAVIS—! Stop what are you doing to her!”

 _A memory?_ She thought, _No, not any memory. My memory!_

“Run! Warn them,” Divine Justina begged while resisting the invisible chains, “Warn Leliana and Cassandra! Warn them all!”

A shadow created of swirling blackness loomed over the Divine, its clawed hand grasping at the heavens. Two red beams marking its eyes as they flicked to the doorway where past Ellana stood defiant.

 **“We have an intruder. Slay the elf,”** The voice paused, then echoed out a gurgling laugh, **“Bring me its blood.”**

The images of a forgotten memory flashed away.

Cassandra faced her, armored gloves dug into Ellana’s shoulders as Cassandra pressed her for answers. “That was your voice. You were there! Most Holy called out to you!” Cassandra rambled, distress obvious in the shrill of her voice, “Who attacked her? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

“I’m sorry.” Her tone blank. “I don’t remember.”

A defeated expression swept up Cassandra’s face.

She thought Cassandra understood by now that her brain that had the memory part was worlds away. But does this vision mean she wasn’t responsible for this? The explosion? All this death and destruction? Who was that shadow that entrapped the Divine?

“Hurry.” Solas came beside her, and placed a hand on her back. “We must seal the rift.” Solas then exclaimed to the crowd of soldiers, “This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… Albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will most likely attract attention from the other side.”

_Ah, that was the explanation he was giving me earlier…_

“Focus on rift and nothing else.” Solas turned to her, a seriousness in his hurried tone. “No matter what happens.”

Ellana nodded at him in understanding.

He said softly into her ear, “ _You have nothing to fear.”_

“That means demons!” Cassandra proclaimed, sword raised skyward to rally the soldiers, “Stand ready.”

They waited for her. She ignored the resistance of her fatigued body, and she ignored the refusals her mind was making as she lifted her hand. A thread from the mark latched out onto the rift, unthreading it. A sea of green revealed itself as the rift began to split in half to open. Then rift let out a blast that threw everything back against the crumbling walls.

An enormous boulder sat in the middle of the arena, violet smoke seething off it. A leg stretched out, and then an arm unfurled… until a monolith of a demon stood before all of them. Sharp jagged edges of rocks created its skin and naturally, its armor. The light of the breach glinted off its crown of tangled horns. Its teeth protruded from its lips, seeming far too large for its mouth as it seethed contempt through vicious snarls.

Ellana didn’t have time to watch Cassandra charge forwards with a war cry leaving her throat. Ellana dodged the rain of firey arrows Leliana and her soldiers shot to alight the night with an orange burn. Ellana barely paid attention to Varric scramble in the shadows to set traps and throw long shots with Bianca The Crossbow. Ellana brushed off the tingle of magic in the air as well as the hushed whispers that were barely audible at the edge of her mind.

Ellana could only hear the screaming of the others. She only saw the river of dark water pouring out of the rift, staining the ground a permanent black. The only thing that occupied her mind was the beat of her steps and the friction of her leather boots scratching against the rubble on the ground. 

Her hand was acting out, trembling volatile magic. It convulsed, shaking violently. Her other hand seized the left to raise it to meet the rift. A tether of magic connected her marked hand and the rift above, but…

It was like she had just shoved her hand into burning fire. Something was wrong. ~~~~

“It’s not working!” She helplessly yelped, “What do I do?!?”

Cassandra cried, “Just do it!”

The rift struck her, punching her in the chest, and threw her into the air with a wave of emerald light. She fell backwards. Ellana fought to raise her head from her shoulders, and when she looked around her, she saw everyone else was flattened to the ground just like she was.

The demon tilted its head back in arrogance, and merely laughed. It made her think of a single word: Pride.

She got up, and stiffened when she saw Pride lock its eyes with her. It was hard to tell where its eyes had specifically looked because it had no pupils. They were completely smoothed over in blackness. It was the way it frothed at the mouth with drool, and how the crumbing stone walls shuddered under the weight of its stomps moving in her direction.

The monolithic demon finally sensed her… and she could not escape. She was left with no choice, but to focus.

_Breathe in… and breathe out._

The air grew colder as she dragged her foot to draw a river in the rubble. Frost sent a wave of prickles dusting across her skin as she made a fluid gesture of both hands. She locked them in the air.

A trail of ice ripped out from the ground from Ellana to Pride’s feet. The ice engulfed it, climbing from its feet towards its chest… It roared, and struggled to escape. But the more it clamored to be released and squirmed against it, the more the ice crushed inwards. A spray of blood released to stain the colorless ice into a bloody red.

It let out another roar, and electricity materialized in its claw.

The monster lashed out and whipped its electric whip at her. And she caught it. She had its power now. It was all within her grasp as she took hold of its electricity. She tasted the power as it electrified her tongue and fizzed on her molars.

She raised her hand for the last time up to the sky.

_Lift me from a world of pain._

The breach reached out to meet her extended hand and as its energy latched onto her, she screamed with tears streaming down her cheeks. The pain was pulsing through her was immense. It urged her let go, and to give in for the longest of moments, but she refused to be pulled into the whirlpool of green, and yanked back, hard.

A force blew her back in a flash of blinding light. All her breath had been punched out of her when her body bounced off the ground, and Ellana hit the ground in a tumble of hurt. The taste of blood filled her mouth. She coughed and sputtered liquid red in between choked gasps, until a numbness overcame her, letting her forget the pain pulsing through her fatigued limbs and her very sore head.

It told her to be still.

_Take from me a life of sorrow._

Her body went limp and all she could see was a great blackness clouding inwards on her vision. That last thing she saw was bare feet… Warm slender fingers caressed her face, moving downwards to lift her to float into the night above. Murmurs of her name lullabied her and eventually quieted until she heard the gentle waters.

_Judge me worthy of Your endless pride._

The calm waves washed over her… Now she would sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. A pleasure to meet you. You may call me Tai, Yeung, Tai Yeung, or Yee. It’s up to you. A choice of four options. How fancy.
> 
> This is my first-time writing. I thought I would re-tell Dragon Age Inquisition with my Lavellan Inky who is head over heels for a bald egg. Elven Glory AM I RIGHT? I love dragon age. I hate EA though. FUckign EA. (I have a feeling I will have to write DA4 with my own happy ending. DID YOU HEAR THE DIFFERENCE IN SOLAS’ TONE BETWEEN TRESPASSER AND THE NEW TRAILER. OMG. “I SusPEcT YoU HavE QueSTiOnS.” *spongebobMemeHere* MY SWEET EGG. I SWEAR HE’S SHOVING RED LYRIUM DOWN HIS THROAT FOR THAT KIND OF VOICE. WHO HURT YOU? OHMAHGOD I HAVE NO FRIENDS THAT PLAY DA SO THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND. That voice :o )
> 
> I don’t think I am good enough at characterization to write in Solas’ POV. Let’s face it. Solas is a difficult character to understand and to write sometimes. I don’t know how his writer does it mun.  
> Maybe, if you like my writing, I will write Dragon Age Origins with my Lyna Mahariel in the future, but there is already a pretty awesome fanfic written by “sundogsandrainbows” called “Of Elves and Humans: Redux”. Their dialogue writing is just *chef’s kiss*. CHEF. ALSO, “Shadows and Reflections” by “Vevici” is an all time favourite of mine!! You should check them out. Hot shit mun. Hot. Shit. Mun.  
> If you think any parts need to be edited or rewritten (because it is D R Y or there are errors), leave a comment for me below. I am fine with words of encouragement or criticism. Just try not to make cry. I need to sleep at night, and I can’t spend it crying over that comment that says, “u suck shit ma fella”. My writing can be dryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy with running sentences ;;;-;;; 
> 
> Or y’know, just let me know if I need to give up completely. LOL ;-; 
> 
> Anyways, we’ll see how it goes. Thanks for making it this far and for reading my crap c:
> 
> Kind regards, and stay safe in these uncertain times,
> 
> ☉ Tai Yeung ☉
> 
> p.s. spent 458+2899+2635+1167+ 14125 + 1557 minutes (I don’t want to add x (1/60) hrs) on this chapter


	2. Rebirth of the Inquisition

_ Chapter 1.1: Rebirth of the Inquition _

“ _When did I say that I would save you?_ ”

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The slender fingers that caressed her cheek slid away as soon as she opened her eyes.

Her hand rushed to her face to catch the ghostly hand that held her cheek just seconds before… but, she only managed to trap the disappearing warmth left from that imprint of a hand.

A whirl of confusion of bloomed in her head, misplacing hasty thoughts and previous otherworldly worries. There were people weren’t there? Fighting? But who was fighting? Why was there fighting? These frightening feelings were plucked away one by one from her webbed mind, making her forget what it was that even caused it all.

Her thoughts were muddled, like the lukewarm water she was sitting in. Ellana looked downwards. She saw never-ending beautiful white sands, and periodic generous puddles of dark water. She inspected it by taking a handful of it, which was dark and thick almost like a paint. It stuck to pasty skin, leaving evidence of the trail it took to molasses-ly drip out of her cupped hand in spherical droplets. Ellana resolved to look upwards. Dark skies above her were streaked with white lines left by falling stars. She could see the stars competing with the night to paint the sky with its blinding light.

She gazed into the night, lips parted and mesmerized.

Instead of standing still, she got up to race with them to their destination. The patter of her bare feet splashed the water beneath her as she followed them. She ran until she was breathless and drenched with sweat. She stopped when her aching legs felt like they climbed mountains and her lungs burned like they inhaled burning ash.

Then the entire world went pitch black with nothing in sight. Suddenly the water turned icy cold on her feet, and a chill followed its way up her back to the base of her jaw.

It did not pass. It stayed there…

A pain struck her on her left hand, and she saw it there; her hand held a shooting star.

It whipped out tethers of green sparks, tainting her with a shine. The shine showed her a glimpse of something massive prowling a circle around her in the dark. Its sheer size being the dark itself; shrouding the starry sky from view. A heinous growl reverberated from the darkness. Blood red orbs towered in front of her, reflecting the image of trembling young woman. A crackle of the ground sounded from its weight pushing closer. Its jaws lined with blood-welled teeth opened over her left hand.

She shut her eyes, and whispered in words solely made of rushed breath, “ _It’s just a dream._ ”

Her world shifted and she fell backwards. She didn’t feel the splash of water enveloping her.

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Eyes stirred restlessly underneath closed eyelids until they flew open. Her body jolted awake in a bodily impulse to countereffect its imagined freefalling, but a softness from a cushioned mattress gladly caught her. Cracks and pops sounded along her stiff muscles with each movement she made to push herself up to sit at the edge of her bed. Looking down at herself, Ellana’s noticed her bare chest was wrapped completely in bandages. There was a soreness, but the wounds that caused some portions of the bandages to colored a rusty brown were not there… Then she remembered her hand.

A circular scar of blackened ebbed skin made rivers for a gloomy green light to break through on the palm of her left hand. It brought along a dull ache that thrummed to a barely noticeable heartbeat.

_It wasn’t just a dream. It was all real,_ she thought, her brows furrowed in disappointment that it all happened. She traced the pattern of flowing curves and unfinished arches with a thumb, _Well, at least it doesn’t hurt like it did before._

A faint wind pushed up against the cabin making the wooden panel walls creak out longingly. A coldness sneaked into the room that made her feet rub together for warmth. The windows were boarded-up on all sides of the cabin. The only source of light was from the dying fire in the fireplace against the wall opposite to the door, but on the bed that Ellana sat on, across from it was a writing desk with papers scattered across it. She took two steps towards it, and picked up a paper that caught her attention due to its hasty scrawl. Fresh ink pooled on her thumb, smudging the “Patient Observations: Day Three” at the top of the ripped note.

_Patient Observations: Day Three_

_Less thrashing. Some response to stimulus. Vitals seem solid. Will inform Lady Cassandra I expect her to wake before the morn._

_Two attempts so far by locals to break into the cabin to kill my patient._

_All this work to save her life, and will they just execute her?_  
  
---  
  
_That would explain the windows…_ The two windows in the cabin had been batten down, guarding against any unwelcome intruders. _But… three days? What had I slept through?_

In the corner of the note, a tiny side note was written: “ _All this work to save her life, and will they just execute her?”_

She took in a sharp breath. She expected to die at the Breach, but… she could escape now that the Breach was sealed.

Ellana took another gander at the windows and squinted at the hazardous number of nails hammered into the boards, _Could I maybe pull them out?_

Then Ellana heard something heavy drop and clatter onto the wooden floorboards. Ellana jerked herself away to press against the closest wall.

“Oh.” An elf with unkept auburn hair stood there with filthy hands raised in surrender. She sputtered, “He said you would be awake soon, but I didn’t know you were awake now. I swear!” The elven girl slapped both of her hands over her mouth.

Ellana cleared her throat, and slowly removed herself from the wall. “Is this another prison? Am I a prisoner?”

The girl stammered, “I— what?” She shook her head in confusion. “No…? Uh, I mean I don’t think so?”

Ellana advanced closer. She couldn’t hear the last of the incoherent words slurred out of the girl’s mouth. “Then where am I?” She snapped, sharper than it was meant to be, “Tell me!”

The servant’s knees buckled, and practically fell to the floor. She crouched herself into a bow to grovel at Ellana’s feet. Ellana immediately felt shame worming through her stomach. Her hand went to touch the girl’s shoulder, to lift her head up, to stop her from this… but then the light of the mark illuminated the burgundy cloth of the elven girl’s shirt. She pulled her hand away before it would touch the girl. The girl was already panicking far too much. Instead, Ellana reluctantly peered down at her.

“I said the wrong thing. I’m so sorry, wait I mean, I beg your forgiveness and your blessing, my lady. You are back in Haven. You saved us from the Breach. The breach stopped growing just like the mark on your hand. You’re all anyone has talked about for the past three days.”

“My lady?” Ellana scoffed at the title. The only title that others would surely call her by would be a slur. She talked to herself out-loud, “Haven… I am in the land of Ferelden. So, a trial happens now I suppose?”

“I don’t know anything ‘bout that. I’m just a humble servant.” The servant gasped at a mistake that only she cared about. “Uh, my lady.”

If she knew anything, it is that whenever an important person dies, the people want to know who did it. And after they find out who they thought did the murder – even if they aren’t guilty – cry outrage and justice in the form of revenge. A tooth for a tooth; an eye for an eye.

_Blood must be paid full in blood_. Ellana crushed the papers in her grasp. In the awkward pause, a name ringed in her head. “Where is Cassandra?”

“Oh! Lady Seeker is in the chantry with the Lord Chancellor.” The servant girl hopped to her feet. “I almost forgot, I did. She said you must come “at once”!”

“Wait, does that mean— and she’s gone.”

The door was left swinging on its hinges until it banged shut. The girl was quicker (and quieter) than she looked…

Ellana looked down to see the papers crushed in her hand. She slowly unclenched her grip, releasing the papers, and smoothed them out. She hoped the rest of the notes she didn’t get to read were still legible, but she only saw ink blurring over the rest of the words.

Ellana sighed, “Shit.”

Regardless, she tucked them away for later… but she didn’t have any pockets. She wasn’t wearing much actually, only a cloth to cover the more private areas of the body. Perhaps, that’s why the servant girl was so eager to leave? Remembering why the servant girl came into her room, Ellana knelt down to the chest that had plopped onto the cabin floors earlier. Inside, there were a collection of shirts and pants sitting atop an umber coat lined with peppered fur and underneath it, hid a pair of sturdy leather boots. She felt a bubble of happiness while inspecting them. They were hers afterall – well-worn and scuffed at the toes. She pulled a white shirt over her head, and so on… until she adorned the rest of the clothing which was given to her.

She would not wait now for someone to come back to deliver her news of her fate so she strode ahead, and pressed open the door with vigour…. Only to sigh again, “Shit.”

So far, _most_ of the sky was still intact. A contrasting green scar laid across the blooming baby blue of the early morning skies. The breach was still there. Ellana rubbed her eyes in disbelief. She blinked through her bruised sight, believing the breach swirling in the sky was purely her imagination, but the longer she fell into it, the more she saw the breach steadily churn in its hypnotizing cycle.

_I suppose that is why “Lady” Cassandra wanted to see little ol’ me. Absolutely fantastic. The Chantry should be the most expensive building compared to these shacks so probably over there—_

“That’s her!”

Ellana shivered. The shout from faraway immediately made her bend out of sight behind a row of wooden cabins. She crushed herself into the wood, imagining herself as a part of a tree, and just like a tree, she was a piece of the background; unnoticed, but unwavering.

“I just saw the Herald of Andraste. Where did she go!?” Ellana listened to the out-of-breaths gasps, strained from the chase. She realized from the heaviness of the searching footsteps that there must be a human man and a human woman.

The human man began to spout information onto the woman that was with him. “They say when she came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her!” She heard him bounce on his heels, and whine, “Why did Lady Cassandra have her in chains before? I thought them Seekers knew everything.”

“It’s complicated,” the woman clicked her tongue, “We were all frightened after the explosion at the Conclave.”

“It isn’t complicated. Andraste herself blessed her.”

Ellana would’ve liked to scream, _“No! I am not blessed by your bloody Andraste!”_ and run off into the wild naked and screaming, but she resisted that urge. She gulped away the uncomfortableness, and silently begged them to wander away from her hiding spot that she and a single stem of elfroot currently occupied – its fat leaves barely swaying with the winter breeze.

“HEY! What are you two doing skulking around the Herald’s cabin. Shoo! Shoo! Get outta ‘ere.”

The pair of humans murmured apologies and eventually faded away with discontented jabbering. Now she waited for the third pair of footsteps to follow the others, until after a time, it was obvious that they weren’t going anywhere. Ellana peaked her head around the corner. A person was standing guard with no intention of straying from that spot. She recognized the color of the clothing he wore. It was the common green of soldiers she had passed by on her journey up to the Breach.

Ellana sucked in a breath of relief. “You’re the boy-soldier. From the mountains.”

He stumbled aback, shocked, but regained himself. “Uh, that’s right. That’s me. I didn’t see you there…” The boy-soldier’s flushed face squirmed between amazement and disappointment; his amazement that she had recognized him, and disappointment in—

“I only meant that you look young. I didn’t mean anything more by the name.” Perhaps she should ask Varric for suggestions.

He grinned. “Oh! No offense taken. It’s part of my charm.” He scratched at his forehead, and Ellana caught a glimpse of the red hair hidden beneath his hood. “I’m only surprised that you remember me with you being the … uh, well…"

She responded immediately, cutting him off from making any small talk, “Did I hear them correctly? They called me a “Herald of Andraste”?”

“That they did, but don’t mind them, Herald.” He stepped back, holding up his hands in apology. “Oh, sorry! Sister Nightingale warned me against calling you that. She said it would ruffle your feathers.”

Ellana felt a frown plastered on her face. She wiped it away. “Who is this Sister Nightingale?”

“Ah, that’s right. You don’t know… Know what instead of me explainin’, I should take you to the professionals.” He waved at her to follow. “Come on, let’s go.”

She nodded, and her legs began to follow him to wherever he was leading her. As the boy-soldier seemed to effortlessly glide up the dirt trodden path, Ellana trudged up it instead, feeling a building weight upon her back. People either dressed in armour or civilian clothes began to stop in their tracks or come out of their cabins to look on at… her. A chorale of whispers and murmurs of “Blessings upon you, Herald of Andraste” and “Maker be with you” were sung to erase the silence of what should have been a peaceful morning.

Ellana stared numbly at the gathering crowd. An uncontrollable twitch tugged at her lip.

Looking past kneeling figures, she saw a recognizable figure in the background, observing with a blank expression. She stiffened when Solas met her eye. She realized there was a hidden judgement brewing under that expression.

_Solas. Why is he still here?_

She asked him silently. And for a moment, she thought he could understand what she was saying, but Ellana was reluctantly broken away when she was shoved through grand wooden doors with a “In ya go, Herald” by the boy-soldier. When the doors sealed shut, all the noise that came from outside was sliced away, and she was left in a vast empty silence.

“I never got his name.” Her voice echoed in the holy hall devoid of crowds of people.

But she wasn’t the only one in the humans’ church, the Chantry. As she got closer down the hall, Ellana realized there were muffled voices arguing behind another door at the end of the hall. Ellana strained to hear so she pressed her ear to that door, and listened…

“The elf failed, Seeker. For all you know, she intended to keep that Breach in the sky. It is not for you to decide her guilt or innocence. Your duty is to the serve the Chantry and its new Divine.”

Well, it was time for her to leave. _Perhaps, there is another exit, other than the door I came in._ As Ellana turned with her back crouched, ready to make a quick get-away, the door swung open, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

Leliana blinked down at her, and smirked like a cat. “Just in time. Come in.”

Ellana had a foreboding sense that Leliana knew something that she did not as she stepped inside the room. Leliana went off to the side to sit in a comfortable-looking cushioned chair, looking uninterested. She noticed Cassandra tiredly leaning over a long table with papers piled high to the ceiling and Chancellor Roderick staring daggers at everyone in the room. When he saw Ellana, not even a second went by before Roderick opened his mouth.

“Chain her!” The Chancellor jabbed his pointy finger at her. He ordered the what she thought were two ceremonial armoured statues on both sides of the door. She flinched when she heard the clink of metal amour, realizing that there were people inside of that heavy silverite. “I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

Cassandra’s richly accented voice came to her defence. “Disregard that, and leave us.”

Roderick watched in horror as the heavily armed guards saluted to Cassandra and left the room. “Have you gone completely mad?!?” Roderick hands flung into the air. He heatedly insisted, “She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine.”

“I did everything I could to close the Breach.” Ellana’s crossed her arms, and raised her chin in defiance. “And yet, I am still a suspect, even after what we did?”

The Chancellor sneered, “You absolutely _are_.”

“No, she is not,” Cassandra replied with clipped words, obviously impatient at Roderick’s growing theatrics and antics. “The Breach is stable, but still a threat,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth, “I will not ignore it.”

“The Breach is not the only threat we face.” Leliana rised from her comfortable-looking chair, and stalked over into the conversation. She stood far too closely to the Chancellor, bending her neck down to look him straight in the eye. “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others…,” Leliana insinuated, “Or have allies who yet live.”

“ _I_ am a suspect?” Roderick stumbled back away from Leliana. He muttered loudly for everyone in the room to hear, “But _not_ the prisoner? Utterly preposterous!”

Ellana narrowed her brows at his small fit.

Cassandra replied, “I, as well as many others, heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to her for aid, proving her innocence.”

“Fools! You believe a vision, possibly conjured by blood magics.” Roderick stretched himself higher, adopting an imitation of an intimidating tone. “So her survival, that _thing_ on her hand – all coincidence?”

“Providence,” Cassandra said bluntly. 

Ellana chuckled in disbelief. “You can’t honestly believe that…” When Ellana looked to Cassandra, Cassandra held an unyielding gaze causing Ellana’s faint smile to fall. “Oh Gods, you’re serious.”

Cassandra strongly answered back to Ellana, “The Maker sent _you_ to us in our darkest hour.”

“No no no no… The last time I checked, you wanted me dead!” Ellana choked, “I am not any kind of “Chosen One”. Your people may be calling me a “Herald of Andraste”, but I am an elf! You’ve let them toss a heretic title upon me! Let me remind you again— An elf!”

Cassandra’s demeanour suddenly changed, apologetic. “I have not forgotten what you are.” Cassandra hesitated, her eyes growing soft. “I was wrong about you… Perhaps I still am. But I will not, however, pretend you were not exactly what we needed when we needed it."

“We had no hand in giving you that title.” Leliana huffed. Looking bored as she directed the conversation back to the task at hand. “The Breach remains and your mark is our only hope of closing it.”

“This is not for you to decide,” Roderick interrupted, whining for his voice to be heard, “It will be the next Divine’s—”

Cassandra slammed a big heavy thick book down on the table, letting a scatter of loose papers fly up and drift down to the floor. “Do you know what this is, Chancellor?” Cassandra did not wait for him to answer. “It is a writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval.”

The Chancellor gawked, his mouth opened in a “o”.

Cassandra drawled like she was speaking to a learning child, “Have a care, _Chancellor_.”

Ellana coughed. “That means leave.”

He shot Ellana a dirty look – an impotent rage painting his face entirely cherry-red. And with it, the Chancellor fled out of the room.

He didn’t bother her, instead she was more interested in this book that had a writ from Divine Justinia. Perhaps, they were the Divine’s last words… the last words that weren’t begging for her life from some murderous monster.

Ellana swept a hand over the leather-bound book, feeling its age with her fingertips. The Divine sure had quite a bit to say… or just large handwriting. Soon after Chancellor Roderick’s humiliating escapade, Leliana and Cassandra began to summarize the contents of the book with the unblinking eye. The metal eye in a sunburst stapled on the cover of the book, eerily stared back at Ellana. It made her impatient, she interrupted, “I _know_ what they were. The Inquisition and its Inquisitor were the zealots that allowed the creation of the Chantry—"

Cassandra snorted.

“—and now you want to become a part of them.”

“Is that what you see? We are not with the Chantry.” Cassandra shook her head. “ _We_ , the Inquisition, cannot wait for the Chantry to find a new Divine… Many died at the conclave and many more will die if we wait idly by… No, we are on our own for now. Perhaps forever.”

“This is the Divine’s directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of old and find those who will stand against the chaos.” Leliana echoed a challenge. “Join us, and stand with us against the chaos.”

_Join us, join us, join us…_ A chant of Leliana’s proposal repeated in Ellana’s head. Ellana breathed in time with the heartbeat on her marked hand. She took a moment to think. She wondered what would happen if she did not play along with the “Nightingale’s” obvious expectations? Her obvious meticulously calculated expectations… 

“What if I refuse?”

Leliana’s placid face shifted into something darker, colder. “You need us. You are an apostate believed to have murdered the Divine in cold blood—"

“You can go if you wish to.” Cassandra cut off Leliana with a hard glare. “But you should know that while some believe you chosen, many still think you guilty. The Inquisition can only protect you if you are with us. It will not be easy if you stay, but… We are already at war and you are already involved. Its mark is upon you and how this mark will affect you in the long term… well, that depends on what we will discover,” Cassandra’s tone softened, “You cannot pretend this has not changed you.”

“Close the Breach,” Leliana sighed, exchanging a knowing look with Cassandra, “That is all we ask.”

“When I woke up, I… didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did we,” Leliana replied sharply.

“I meant that I expected to not to wake up at all.”

There was a moment of silence between the Seeker, the Nightingale, and the Herald. Now Ellana knew that she should have left when she had the chance. She should have known that when the Chancellor was acting incredulous, and in grandiose disbelief that she was even there in that room participating in the conversation. She should have known when Cassanadra had been friendly and inviting during the entire interaction and how Leliana had been observing her with such watchful eyes, already winning the game of chess that Ellana didn’t know she was playing.

“Please.” Cassandra extended her hand. “Help us fix this before it’s too late.”

_It seems the rat got caught in the trap._ Ellana hissed under her breath, “This was exactly what I was afraid of.”

Cassandra stepped closer to hear what had been said. “What—?”

“I live in this world too, and I don’t exactly want it to die just yet. As I promised before, I will do whatever it takes to close the Breach. Whatever may come, I will endure it all. Even if that means I have to help your inquisition.” Ellana grabbed Cassandra’s hand, and shook it in finality. Cassandra gave a satisfied grunt, and Leliana wore the same cat-like smirk when she invited Ellana into the room. “For now.”

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The door shut promptly behind her with a solid click. She was removed from what Leliana mentioned were the “further details of a much needed discussion”. Ellana was happy to oblige the two women to their privacy, but only because that meant she would get her own as a notable side benefit.

Large stone pillars lined the hallway to hold up the cavernous roof high above her. A sturdy and well-built foundation for what was probably the most expensive building in this little hamlet. And here she thought only dwarves could carve out the insides of mountains? Light poured through long glass-stained windows, but it had not yet reached her to warm her pink cheeks and chilly hands. The candles melting on odd corners on the floors didn’t do anything to help in that endeavour either. Instead, another inviting door to the right of her let a charming warm light dance its way across to her feet.

A feminine voice echoed out from the room into the hall, “This is an inopportune time, Marquis…” It was Antivan in its accent.

_A Nevarran, an Orlesian, and now an Antivan? An Antivan having an interesting conversation._

Ellana’s curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she stealthily sneaked over to peek through the opened crack of the door. Afterall, she was already involved with this Inquisition organization. She may as well find out as much about her surroundings and those people in those surroundings. She was even willing to risk her newfound privacy.

Another woman of the Inquisition draped in an extravagant gold puff of clothing. It was so over-the-top that it reflected the candle light back into Ellana’s eyes, making her wince. Ellana would have loved to use that excuse to say that was why she couldn’t place a face to the voice… but instead, there was a fat loaf of a man, dressed in a less exciting version of clothing, blocking the Antivan from view.

“Hush! We shouldn’t disturb her.” The door was pushed shut from behind her.

“I was just…” _Eavesdropping._ Ellana decided against finishing that sentence. She silently berated herself for getting caught… First it was Leliana, and now it was this elvhen woman?

The elvhen woman crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her with suspicion, then realization. “You’re the Herald.”

“No, I am not. I’m just the one that people are calling the Herald, but I’m not a Herald of anything… at all.”

In a sideways glance of displeasure, she sighed and said, “I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Minaeve. I research demons and other creatures for Seeker Pentaghast. I use what she finds to help soldiers fight them. And I suppose now that you’re here, I will be getting my parts from you from now on.”

_Parts?_ Ellana shook her head. “You must be mistaken. I’m just here to seal the hole in the sky.”

Minaeve frowned. “That’s not what she told me. From what I’ve heard, you have a long list of tasks ahead of you… But as you say, Herald.”

Ellana deliberates over this new information. This was news to her. It seems like she had been duped, and Cassandra and Leliana had already expected this outcome; that she would join them. She never had a choice, did she?

There was an itch akin to spiders crawling from the bottom of her back all the way up onto her neck. Ellana scratched her neck. These types of moments make her fingers anxious for something to hold, something familiar that should’ve been in her pocket. And once again, a feeling of something missing plagued her. She found herself scanning the walls, looking for the door to the prison that she had awoken in three days ago. She wondered if what she was missing was in there?

“It is odd to see them accept you as their hero. One look at your face, and it’s clear that you are no Herald of Andraste.” Minaeve gestured with a thumb to the grandiose door where crowds of people waited for a glimpse of their Herald of Andraste. “But they seem to like you, _lethallin._ ”

Right, she was still in the middle of a conversation.

“Are you Dalish?” she guessed.

“Fen’harel take the Dalish.” She swore bluntly under a lasting sigh.

Ellana tensed. “Be careful what you wish for.”

“Don’t let my lack of vallasilin fool you. I _was_ Dalish until my magic manifested. You do know what happens when a Dalish clan has too many mages, don’t you?”

She remembers. “They sent you away.”

“I was seven.” Minaeve spoke without anger or sadness, only with glassy eyes. “They gave me a pack and sent me into the woods to find my own life. Just like that. I was theirs, we were family, but—” Minaeve stopped herself. “It doesn’t matter now.”

_“If they saw you now, they would be ashamed to lose such a blessing.”_ She had met Minaeve minutes ago. So how could she state such a confident compliment? Even though, Ellana knew that no one deserved that fate – To be thrown away by those that supposedly love you.

A light returned to Minaeve’s face. With pink cheeks, Minaeve’s mouth hung open at Ellana, and stuttered for words. Why was Minaeve struggling for words? Ellana was confused. She gave an honest opinion. The fact that they turned away any Dalish born was foolish.

Ellana shrugged. “So tell me about yourself.” Ellana added a question, “You said Cassandra has you researching creatures. Why did you decide to research dangerous creatures?”

“I-I.. like studying them. So much of this world is frightening because we don’t understand it…”

Minaeve spoke of how she was an apprentice in her Circle, and her agreeable relationships with the tranquil who were taken away from her after the Circles fell. She explained how the templars protected her until they didn’t, and how her fellow mages turned on her when she wanted nothing to do with the rebellion. She reminisced lovingly about the security that had been torn away from her from simply out of nowhere, and that she was unsure that she would ever get it back.

And as the conversation went on, Ellana had the distinct feeling that Minave and her puff of ginger hair reminded her of somebody who she held close to her heart.

Somebody who she had forgotten.

Somebody who she did not want to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty boring chapter. I know. I feel like something is missing in this chapter… I’ll come back and edit it later. *whispers to self* hope I got that inquisition lore right *sinks into the bushes behind me*
> 
> Also, FYI:
> 
> “Words words words…” = Generic common dialogue.
> 
> “Italicized words in quotes…” = Elven or whatever specified language dialogue because I AM NOT A LEXICON. Go ask Solas. 
> 
> Italicized words (not in quotes) = Ellana is lost inside her head again. 
> 
> Underlined words… = Codex writing or paper notes… with a box enclosed around it. I’m still deciding how to do this one… Maybe a picture? But I can't paste pictures into the THING. Idk…
> 
> Another also… I thought of a rough backstory-skeleton for Ellana. I have thought of another entirely separate story that predates inquisition that I could write for her. So yeah. I am excite.
> 
> Did I mention I love Feynite? 
> 
> Ok bye.
> 
> ☉ Tai Yeung ☉

**Author's Note:**

> **NOTES**
> 
> Hello. A pleasure to meet you. You may call me Tai, Yeung, Tai Yeung, or Yee. It’s up to you. A choice of four options. How fancy.
> 
> This is my first-time writing. I thought I would re-tell Dragon Age Inquisition with my Lavellan Inky who is head over heels for a bald egg. Elven Glory AM I RIGHT? I love dragon age. I hate EA though. FUckign EA. (I have a feeling I will have to write DA4 with my own happy ending. DID YOU HEAR THE DIFFERENCE IN SOLAS’ TONE BETWEEN TRESPASSER AND THE NEW TRAILER. OMG. “I SusPEcT YoU HavE QueSTiOnS.” *spongebobMemeHere* MY SWEET EGG. I SWEAR HE’S SHOVING RED LYRIUM DOWN HIS THROAT FOR THAT KIND OF VOICE. WHO HURT YOU? OHMAHGOD I HAVE NO FRIENDS THAT PLAY DA SO THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND. That voice :o )
> 
> I don’t think I am good enough at characterization to write in Solas’ POV. Let’s face it. Solas is a difficult character to understand and to write sometimes. I don’t know how his writer does it mun.
> 
> Maybe, if you like my writing, I will write Dragon Age Origins with my Lyna Mahariel in the future, but there is already a pretty awesome fanfic written by “sundogsandrainbows” called “Of Elves and Humans: Redux”. Their dialogue writing is just *chef’s kiss*. CHEF. ALSO, “Shadows and Reflections” by “Vevici” is an all time favourite of mine!! You should check them out. Hot shit.
> 
> If you think any parts need to be edited or rewritten (because it is D R Y or there are errors), leave a comment for me below. I am fine with words of encouragement or criticism. Just try not to make cry. I need to sleep at night, and I can’t spend it crying over that comment that says, “u suck shit ma fella”. 
> 
> Or y’know, just let me know if I need to give up completely. LOL ;-; i wont im like mould
> 
> Anyways, we’ll see how it goes. Thanks for making it this far and for reading my crap c:
> 
> Kind regards, and stay safe in these uncertain times,
> 
> ☉ Tai Yeung ☉
> 
> p.s. spent (458+2899+2635+1167+ 14125 + 1557) minutes = (I don’t want to add x (1/60) hrs) on this chapter


End file.
